Purgatorio
by Ash Engel
Summary: S7 Spoilers - After waking up in Purgatory, Dean realizes two things. Cas is back to normal, and they're both trapped in a Hell-Away-From-Hell. Oh yeah, and Dick's there, intent on eating them. Destiel, T Possibly M for later chapters.
1. EndBeginning

**A/N: **I don't own the characters, most concepts, ect.

**Chapter Soundtrack:** n/a

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**"****Wake up."**

Dean's eyes tightened before loosening, opening to nothing but darkness. For a moment he drown in confusion, unsure if he had opened his eyes at all. Carefully he tested the waters, sitting up before seeking the familiar sensation that had pulled him from what he could now be sure was sleep.

In the waking world, everything was inky and cold. He wondered briefly if he couldn't see through the thick black sludge Dick Roman had splattered, just in time for vision to adjust to spindly trees and overgrown brush.

**"****Good. We need to get out of here."**

Dean turned, knowing that voice and instantly placing it as the anchor that had always been there when he was lost. As he stood, Castiel looked around. Dean was distracted by his clothes, bright beacons in the desolate nothingness. Despite every bone in his body screaming something was wrong, out of place, and dangerous, his mind had to take a second to linger on the white hospital clothes adorning the angel.

After all this time, he still expected a suit and tie where there was a small v-neck shirt.

**"****Where are we?" **Dean said in relative seconds, letting his eyes glide away from Cas as he stood. He had to stay focused. Any lapse, even if only a moment long, could be life threatening until he was sure things were safe. And, given the scenery, he doubted that.

Already his mind spiraled, trying to place where they were, where Sam and Kevin were, if Dick was somehow still around, and how (seeing as no one but he and Castiel were present) he was going to get a mentally unstable angel to safety without nakedness, board games, or cat penises.

**"****You don't know?" **Castiel grunted after a small pause.

Dean turned back sharply from inspecting his surroundings to stare. Cas' voice was firm, which he noticed first. It wasn't nearly as distant or whimsical, and as strongly as it struck him the angel's face was even worse.

Or, given the other's pulled together eyebrows, slightly down-turned jaw, and lips that were beginning to purse shut, better.

Dean blinked, trying to stay up to speed. His head was spinning, his heart was slamming into his chest as if intent of breaking through every bone and muscle separating it from the frigid air (and Cas, though he ignored that part of it).

**"****Last I checked," **he said, running over the facts in his mind while making an expression along the lines of a shrug with his lips, **"we ganked Dick."**

Cas' eyebrows rose higher. His eyes themselves, a blue Dean couldn't pick out of the shadows and dim lighting, were wide. He stared at the whites around them, trying to decide if the expression was alarm, fear, concern, exasperation.. For the first time in a long while he found Cas unreadable again.

And not in the recently common way, like how hippies were impossible to decipher.

But in the _Angel of the Lord _hopelessly clueless and vastly intelligent Castiel way that made him an open book and a mystery all at once, with simplicities in his face and complexities in his eyes that drove Dean mad.

But above the expression, came the words.

**"****And where would he go in death?"**

If it wasn't an emergency situation, Dean would have commented on it. The_"Duh" _that Cas' words were soaked in slapped Dean in the face.

He had to let it seep into his mind, to settle slowly.

Dick was dead. Cas was Cas again, or at least more so than normal. And they were both in some inky wasteland that was somehow related to Dick-

**"****What, are you tellin me-"**_therewasnopossibleway-_

**"****Every soul here is a monster." **Castiel said flatly while glancing away, breaking eye contact for the first time to spot some predator Dean's senses had yet to pick up.

The hunter could only stare. He looked away, following Cas' line of sight into the black wilderness. Sticks rustled and leaves crunched, but for the life of him he couldn't make anything out.

**"****This is where they come to prey upon each other for all eternity." **The angel explained.

Dean looked around, hopelessly afraid of the darkness. It was human nature, after all. Even hunters were afraid of the dark, if not more so. He knew what was out there. _He'd put it there._

Still. That was impossible.

He had lost Cas to the leviathans. He had lost Bobby to the leviathans.

Sure, he got them both back, but in broken pieces that were more insults from God than anything substantial. And now, when he had finally ___finally_made some semblance of peace, put Bobby to rest, and recovered enough bits and pieces of Cas to have his old ally back however briefly, he was in purgatory?

No. No God, or Fate, or Luck was that damn cruel.

**"****_We're in purgatory?_"**He asked numbly, looking between Cas and the emptiness.

He knew the answer. But desperately he wished Cas would laugh. Say it was a joke, then ramble about bees and take them away. He could take that kind of fucking answer, if it meant they weren't really-

Cas didn't say anything. Dean scrambled.

**"****How do we get out?" **If it was real, they needed a plan. Again his mind raced.

**"****I'm afraid we're much more likely to be ripped to shreds."** The angel said, again looking away. Something about him doing so made Dean want to scream. He needed Cas to look at him.

He needed those focused, alert blue eyes to stare at him and comfort him.

This place was instilling a fear Dean hadn't felt since his days with Hell and its hounds. It was a crippling feeling that he was sure would bring anyone that hadn't been through what he had to their knees. Even given his experience with terror and pain and danger, some small part of him wanted to curl up and scream and cry and grab onto Cas for dear life.

It wasn't like him at all. That only added to the fear.

Whatever Cas had sensed earlier made itself known. It snarled, a curling ripping sort of noise that made Dean turn around, searching for what he hadn't seen before. His senses pierced the darkness, watching red lights bob in the abyss. Already he was thinking. Meg took Cas' angel blade. Dean didn't have any more sharpened bones. There were sticks nearby, but nothing more than flimsy twigs that couldn't even start a fire much less hold off.. Whatever the hell was out there.

**"****Cas, I think we better-" **Dean turned, whispering in his fear and hesitation. Running was the only option, assuming they could. But as soon as the word 'go' left his mouth he saw the nothingness.

No Cas. No comfort. Just his heart thudding in his ears to remind him this was not a dream.

"Cas?" He hissed in a whisper. All hopes of the angel being back to normal were dashed. If he'd decided he didn't fight anymore and poofed out to.. somewhere, somehow, Dean was going to find him and kick his sorry ass into sanity.

Assuming, of course, he wasn't ripped to shreds by an enemy he couldn't fully see.

Flashbacks of hellhounds struck him hard. He looked around, hearing the hungry snarls grow in number. Red lights bobbed and prowled all around him.

Dean swallowed roughly once before the beasts leapt, tearing out of the surrounding darkness and lunging for him on all sides.


	2. Run

**A/N: **I don't own Cas/Dean/Supernatural/Purgatory/Ect.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Snow Patrol's_ "Run"_

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Dean bolted backwards, tearing into the ground and feeling his boots throw wet dirt behind him as he ran. His lungs ripped into expansion, raking in the cold air in burning-cold bursts as he leapt over an overturned tree trunk he almost didn't see in the darkness.

All he could think about was hellhounds. And suddenly, all alone being hunted, he wasn't in purgatory anymore. He was in some old nightmare he'd had a million times, and the hounds were on his heels. Crowley and Lucifer were laughing on their thrones while he ran from Hell itself trying to pull him in ankles-first.

He was only allowed one mistake. He didn't see the gnarled root risen from the earth until his foot was in it, catching it and ensuring he would die here as arms braced, taking the majority of the fall into the leaves and unforgiving ground.

His face bounced off the dirt once as the snarls became gleeful barks and starving howls. The nearest beast leapt, and even in the darkness Dean could finally see it clearly. It was dog-like, only less organic in all the places that mattered. It's eyes were haunting red dots that seemed bored into it's skull, which was a sleek black rather than anything furry.

It looked like a dead dog with it's skin pulled too tight. His maw was hung open, leaking a black slime as it rained down overtop Dean. Both front legs were extended, with sharp blade-like nails aimed for his shoulders. Of course, all Dean could focus on were the teeth, lathered in the saliva-goo and heading straight for his face.

The Winchester boy did the only thing that came to mind. He screamed,

"_**Cas!"**_

Just as it's breath smacked into his face with a revolting scent of rotted flesh and decay, the darkness broke open into light.

Dean shut his eyes just barely in time to avoid damage. His eyes burned and his head gave a soft ache as the holy light burst open over his head. In the snapshot moment Dean had seen before shutting his eyes and curling away, there was Castiel, trenchcoat blowing back ever so slightly as he stood with feet at either side of the hunter's head. One hand reached out, perfectly placed, and the exact spot where his hand met the beast's head burst into the familiar smiting power that had saved Dean so many other times.

"Get up, Dean." Castiel beckoned sternly when the human didn't move on the ground.

Slowly but surely he did so, blinking rapidly and looking from one side to the other.

"_Shit."_ He hissed before clumsily sitting up. Castiel stayed close, staring in alarm. More of the first beast's brothers were coming. They were slower, but only by seconds. The only reason they weren't yet under attack was hesitance on the enemy's side, but that would save them only for so long.

Castiel watched as Dean tried to stand and nearly fell over. He reached out sharply, grabbing hold of Dean's shoulder and pulling him in the direction he had previously been running.

"We need to go." He said lowly, ushering the other alongside him.

"You could have fucking warned me." Dean spat as he staggered, still blinking. He hadn't shut his eyes fast enough. Castiel washed over with regret, though most of it was muted by the alarm pushing him on.

"I apologize." He said half-distantly while making sure the other didn't fall over more of the dead trees and thick roots that littered the ground as frequently as the dead leaves.

"Seriously, what the hell Cas?" Dean complained as they slowly picked up pace following the gradual return of Dean's sight. "You ditch out, for what? To see if the things wanted a taste of my ass?"

The bitterness was evident, moreso than the odd choice of words. Castiel was positive if the monsters were going to eat anything, it would be his face or throat for a faster kill, not his ass.

But there was no time to ask as they quickened to a jog, with Cas' hand still firmly on Dean's shoulder.

"I told you we needed to get out of here." He stated. The answer was obvious, if Dean would simply think about it, but as usual there was no recognition from the hunter. Only a surly,

"Yeah, _we_. Meaning _you and me together._"

Cas' grip tightened without his realizing it. Dean made a small exhale as if in very slight pain before shrugging the touch away. He was able to run now, although Castiel still kept an eye out for any signs of falling.

"I was checking the area for any signs of where to go. I thought it would be faster than you and I walking together. You are.." He didn't want to say it, he knew how Dean would take it. But not saying anything would leave a blank the hunter's mind would fill with worse words. "Slower."

As expected, Dean huffed as they turned through the trees, down a small hill and over a dried up stream.

"Yeah well, sorry I can't just pop my ass all over the place."

He was insecure. This was survival mode, and being less in an area spelt liability. Castiel understood, but it wasn't what he meant and he didn't like Dean thinking like that. He sighed inwardly.

They were briefly quiet, mostly listening for sounds of their pursuers. It took a long while for them to accept the fact that their surroundings were oddly silent. Finally, with Dean panting, they slowed and stopped. Castiel turned, looking around at all sides while Dean checked their flanks with hands on his knees, breathing deep.

"The hell'd they go?" He said between breaths. It didn't take him long to straighten and wipe one coat sleeve across his forehead.

"Tactical retreat." Castiel grunted, grimacing slightly as he looked around one more time.

There was nothing and no one for miles. It wasn't the kind of retreat of a loss of interest or careful dodging on their part. It was an ordered withdraw, and that meant something bigger than purgatory dogs knew they were there.

"We need to find shelter." Cas said flatly before turning and marching off. Dean followed, more composed but still quiet. Idly the angel wondered if he was upset, or frightened, or angry. Not for the first time he thought about what was going through Dean's mind as they walked together, trying to find any sign of anything more than thin trees and semi-flat ground.

When the silence became awkward, Cas dared a glance over at Dean. He knew the questions would come as soon as survival wasn't an active issue. As much as he wanted to find somewhere to hide and keep Dean safe, that prospect had him less excited about his current goal.

In time, who knew how long, they found an edge to the trees. They thickened only slightly before thinning out again into nearly nothing before a mouth of a cave opened up. Cas glanced to Dean again, who was staring at him as if to judge by Castiel's face if this was a good idea.

He offered Dean a tiny shrug before moving forward.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He stopped, reaching one arm out to signal Dean to stop.

The silence was deafening. Castiel turned to him, staring into the hunter's eyes in silent reassurance before vanishing.

Deep within the cave, he looked around. His vessel's eyes were not as sharp as he would have liked, but a little grace went a long way, and thanks to the lord's design for angel's possession of bodies, Castiel had enough of an edge to the sense to assure himself that the cave was indeed empty. With a brief second scan to be perfectly sure, he left the dark cavern and returned to Dean's side.

"Well?" the hunter whispered impatiently.

Castiel nodded. "It's safe."

That was all Dean needed to turn away, marching himself straight into the darkness Cas knew he couldn't see. Though he would never point it out verbally, Dean's (literal) blind faith in him was flattering. Especially considering recent events..

**Cas hung his head slightly as he moved forward, knowing what was to come as soon as the settled down inside.**


	3. This Isn't Everything You Are

**A/N: **I don't own Purgatory/Dean/Castiel/Supernatural/Ect.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Snow Patrol's _"This Isn't Everything You Are"_

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"So.. you're back to normal?" Dean commented with the usual lack of tact.

They'd been sitting for maybe two minutes before the hunter had spoken, looking Cas over with a mixture of worry and curiosity. The angel, who was perched closer to the opening and thus more illuminated than Dean who was tucked within the darkness, gave a small nod.

His eyes dropped to the ground, then away. Hands gripped themselves in front of him as he shifted uneasily, unable to look at Dean for very long.

"Well good." The Winchester boy finally grunted, crossing his arms and sinking down against the rocks to his back as if readying for some uneasy shut eye. Despite the posture his eyes stayed open and alert, always moving between Cas' shadowed face and the narrow trees coating the outside world.

Again silence stretched on, and Dean sighed heavily.

"So what's our plan?" He shifted, sitting up straighter and leaning in across the small expanse to near Castiel across from him. The angel blinked once, looked down, then outside.

The tension in the air was thick with emotion. Frustration, irritation, fear, and the larger myriad of things Dean and Cas both needed off their chests. But Castiel was too kind to burst open in front of Dean without being provoked, and the hunter worked best when everything he felt was a compressed weight at the pit of his stomach.

So they ignored the tight air, the thoughts badgering the back of their heads, and the anxieties that weren't totally concerning purgatory.

"Something big knows we're here, Dean." Castiel half-growled as he looked out over the empty abyss. "The only reason we're alone right now is because it wants us to be. Inevitably it will find us, and then.." His hands tightened around one another.

Dean's lips pulled to one side slightly before he shrugged. "Then we fight." He finished bluntly.

Cas stared at him, finally. It was a simple answer, but foolish. They had no weapons, and he couldn't use his grace for everything or else they would surely die. Their only hope was hiding and staying hidden, but that was a temporary fix. Overall, everything was hopeless. They stood against a world of dead demons, monsters, and who knew what else as no more than a weaponless angel and a tired hunter. Their best bet was Sam finding some way to save them, but that was an astronomical chance that could take months, at the absolute best.

Despite this, Castiel nodded. He found himself assuring Dean that it was their true plan, and he knew in his heart when the time came he would go down fighting with the hunter as they always did against such odds. It was how things were, and he couldn't explain it. If Dean said it was time to fight, he would ultimately fight. And if Dean said it was time to die, Castiel would make sure that the hunter would not die alone.

"Okay, Chuckles." Dean extended one leg towards Cas, nudging the angel's own white-robed limb with the end of his dirty boot. "Time to talk." His crossed arms adjusted themselves, trying to look serious. Cas internally squirmed, trying to maintain eye contact as Dean's eyes bore straight through him. He didn't say anything, but waited briefly for Dean to go on. When he didn't, Cas glanced away then forced himself back.

"Yes, Dean?" he mumbled, trying to predict what the hunter was aiming at now just as his lips twitched and parted.

"You've been dead silent ever since we got here." As if to emphasize what 'here' was he looked around the pitch black cave. "What's up?"

Cas tried to offer a small shrug, but gave up halfway through the motion. "What do you mean?" He asked while struggling to keep his eyes on Dean and ears on the woods.

"You know what I mean, Cas." the hunter huffed in disapproval. "What's wrong? If you've got something going on you better spill it now, cause I can't afford for you to be distracted out there."

Castiel's lips turned down in one corner for a fraction of a second before he looked away.

"I will not let anything distract me, Dean." He spoke firmly. It was the truth. When push came to shove he would protect the man across from him no matter what. It was a promise, even if Dean didn't exactly notice that conviction for what it was.

"That's not what I asked." Green eyes leveled a dull stare at Castiel. Then, like usual, Dean took his entire foot in both hands and shoved it in his mouth. "Talk to me. You owe me at least that."

The words weren't as bitter as they could have been, but the half-snapping tone brought Cas' attention back to Dean's face. A ghost of surprise ran over his face before vanishing.

He wanted to claim he didn't know what Dean meant. But he knew. He could remember everything crystal clear. Just like the first time he saw Dean, suffering in Hell before being pulled free. Just like the time they first really met, or the time they fought the apocalypse together. Castiel's memory was flawless and clear. He could remember how it felt to have all of purgatory writhing around inside him, powerful yet sickening. He could remember Dean's hurt expression, his fury, his words...

Those would never leave.

And with all that he could remember dying, yet again. He remembered his- _no, Emanuel's life_ -and his choice to fix what he had caused within Sam. He could remember that, and his insanity, and the clarity it had all blessed him with, even though no one else seemed to understand.

He knew exactly what Dean meant, and the reminder that the other still blamed him put weights of guilt and shame onto his heart.

Blue eyes dropped to the ground and stayed there. He wanted to apologize and scream all at once. But all that happened was a small shuffle of feet and Dean withdrew his leg, sat up straighter, and leaned in to close some of the gap between them.

"Come on." He urged, resting his elbows on his knees and staring intently at Castiel as he avoided the other's gaze.

"Cas.." Dean urged. When there was no reaction for a long moment he let out a long sigh, slapped both hands on to his knees, then moved to stand. Castiel watched him shake his head slightly before turning and marching towards the exit of the cave. All at once the angel was on his feet, beside Dean with one firm hand on his arm.

"Wait." He called, trying to understand just what one earth was going through the hunter's mind. "It's not safe out there."

"Yeah, well I'd prefer it a hell of a lot more than being stuck in here with you refusing to talk to me." He snapped as he turned, hands in the pockets of his coat and face soured with anger.

Castiel let go, keeping both arms loose at his sides as he gave Dean a stern, silent stare. Conflict raged, and for a long moment he wasn't sure exactly how to react.

"I am not refusing to talk to you, Dean, I simply-"

"_Bullshit_, Cas." Dean sneered. Finally, out came the anger. The frustration and blame, unresolved bitterness, and everything survival had muted until now boiled over. Dean was at his breaking point, and all Cas could do was stand there and watch without a word.

"First you fucking made a deal with Crowley and declare yourself God, then you go and fucking _die_-"

Cas winced as Dean's voice hitched on the word.

"I'm left to clean up your fucking mess with nothing to bury but your fucking coat, and then all of a sudden I find out you've been living some apple pie healer-boy life?" Dean threw both his arms up and slapped them down at his sides loudly. If they weren't in Purgatory, he'd probably be to the point of kicking something. But all that was around were rocks, and Cas.

"_And what?_ You don't remember anything but for ten seconds, and then you run off to fix Sammy and suddenly you're one cuckoo bird short of a clock!"

Castiel didn't fully understand the word choice. But he could hear the hurt in Dean's voice, and recoiled from it's force combined with the man's fury and resentment. After all this time, he was still mad..

"Now you're finally acting ok again and you won't even talk to me? What the hell, man?" Again Dean made another wide arm motion before just standing there, waiting. Cas stared with confusion, looking around momentarily before coming back to Dean's face. Wide eyes searched the hunter's features, trying to find something there to speak to as he scrambled for what to say.

"Dean.. I.." He floundered, raising both hands slightly before they dropped again almost in a shrug.

"What would you like me to say?"

"Oh, I don't know, Cas." Dean fired back, spinning his wheels and almost screaming amidst the otherwise silence. "Maybe you could finally tell me why the hell you made a deal with Crowley, or maybe you could say sorry for nearly ending the entire world!"

Cas frowned, but held fast. Up until the final hit.

"Bobby's dead because of you, Cas!" Dean shouted. His jaw clenched tight as his mouth shut. Half an instant flashed through his mind that no, he hadn't meant that. But as soon as it arrived it vanished, drown out by anger and blame and hurt. He'd lost everyone.

He'd lost Cas and Bobby, only to get them both back in various broken pieces. And now he'd lost Sammy, and was all alone in Purgatory where Dick Roman or some other monster was sure to bust his ass.

All he had was Cas, who had caused the entire damn situation in the first place, and couldn't even give Dean the time of day to hold conversation. It was all far too much, and seeing the absolute stricken pain that flashed over Castiel's features was the final damn straw.

Dean turned away, storming out of the cave and into the nothingness. He couldn't take the anger that made him sick to his stomach, or all the emotions that flooded his mind and made him dizzy with confused sentiment.

Some part of him still wanted to hold on to Cas as a brother, but the other wanted nothing to do with the angel that had fallen from grace and cost him nearly everything. He'd never felt so amazed as when he'd found "Emanuel" alive and well, or so broken as to when he'd met Cas in the asylum, completely not himself.

All the while he'd lost the only real father in his life to a mess Cas himself had caused.

It all could have been avoided if Cas has just fucking talked to him rather than Crowley, and now the lack of communication was too much to bear.

Dean stormed off, step by step through the forest.

Until all at once there was an iron lock on his shoulder, whipping him around. Castiel wound two fists into Dean's shirt and coat, jerking him slightly. The focus and raw conviction in his eyes as he glared down at Dean shook the hunter to his core, and for half a breath Dean couldn't have spoken even if he'd wanted to.

Castiel was searching for the words that would make everything ok.

The words that would earn Dean's forgiveness, the words that would mend his soul, the words that would make it obvious that it had been one grand mistake. Sam had ended the world once. Bobby had sold his soul to Crowley.

Why was Cas different? Why did Dean refuse to forgive him? It was the single question that tore the angel's soul apart, and as he held the hunter firmly in place his mind ripped itself in two trying to find the words that would say everything.

Words to say sorry. Words to beg. Words to cry through and explain his side.

Words that would say _'I did it for you' _and words that would let Dean feel how Cas felt.

Words to say_ 'I wanted to protect you from my _chaos', and words to remind him of Lisa, and Ben, and that tiny glimpse of happiness Cas wanted Dean to have because everyone said he never would.

But there were no words. There were only stares, and tears in the angel's eyes as he jerked Dean closer and slammed their skin into contact. Lips pressed with alarm and fervor and desperately, foolishly, Castiel kissed Dean as if the other was air and he'd spent his life underwater. Lips pressed against teeth with the pressure, and breath exhaled in a hot burst from his nose as he tried to crush down every feeling of guilt and shame and fear and regret he had and force it into the hunter through the touch.

Dean was too stunned to move against the violent kiss at first, and in the same second he caught his bearings, Castiel was gone. He blinked, inhaling harshly and staring at the emptiness.

He didn't know what to think. What to feel. What to say.

All Dean could do was stand there wide-eyed, trying to understand the answer the angel had tried to bestow unto him through the action. After a long, lonely time where nothing but cold air kept him company, Dean swallowed once and looked around.

"Cas?" He mouthed, though his voice failed and all that passed out of him was strained air. He cleared his throat, feeling frantic as he glanced around. "Cas." He spoke firmer, wishing the other was back.

Something about that had been a comfort. It felt to Dean like some integral piece to something had finally been in his hands, and while he'd never needed it before, now that he knew about it, its absence let the cold hollow of Purgatory seep into his very soul.

"Cas." He whispered, ceasing his looking around as the cold leeched into his bones. Castiel had taken an important part of him this time, and without it Dean's anger and security and confidence were gone. He looked back to the cave, then the woods.

"Come back." He mumbled, barely audible as his mind twisted into the beginnings of a crisis.

All the things he'd been running from were catching up, and more horrifying than hellhounds or purgdogs were his fears and hopes and emotions attacking him while he was utterly alone without alcohol to fight back.


	4. Falling Apart

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Dean/Cas/Purgatory/Ect.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Matt Nathanson's _"Falling Apart"_

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Dean Winchester was falling apart.

Castiel was gone, permanently or temporarily he didn't know.

His lips still felt lit up by the other's touch, and while he wanted to be disgusted by the attraction the fact of the matter was that there wasn't any. Not the way he'd always feared. In the back of his mind in tiny whispers he'd always been afraid of what would happen if he indulged (just for a drunken moment in a dream, maybe) and kissed the angel. If he liked it, if it was as arousing as when he locked lips with women, what would he do?

But there was no focus on Castiel's body or any internal lust.

There was just the aching emptiness like the first night he'd spent with Cas' coat, curled up in the front seat of the impala, afraid Sam would walk out of the motel and see him there. Sure, the angel had left him tons of times to do things, and had vanished earlier in this unsettling pseudo-hell only to return. But now his absence was chilling and Dean could do little more than stumble numbly back to the cave and sink into the blind nothing.

Things had been fine. He'd had it under control.

But suddenly one touch of that angel's lips and he was pressing his knees up to his chest and folding his arms over them to rest his head on from sheer exhaustion. Cas had left and stolen his energy, and Dean was shaken and confused with no one to help him. Which was normally fine. Any other time, with any other problem, he could get back up and keep going. He could shove it all down, brush it off, and carry on. _Not now._

Not when he suddenly had to face the questions he'd been beating back. Like what he felt for Castiel exactly, what that meant about him, what Bobby and Sam and his parents would think to know..

..What? That he was.. _gay_? No. _No no no, he wasn't gay!_

Dean Winchester was an all-american man's man who drank beer and played pool and worked on cars! He built the impala up from scratch when she'd been totaled, and he ganked monsters for a living! There was nothing wrong with him, he didn't feel this way for another guy. No way.

But if not that, then what was it?

Cas was family. Right? He'd told himself that like a mantra subconsciously for a long time now. Cas as an angel, which was technically genderless. But his vessel was male and at this point any body but Jimmy's just wouldn't seem right. That unshaven face was Cas'. Those impossibly wise blue eyes and ruffled brown hair belonged to him, the same as his often dry lips that were the most curious shade of pink Dean had ever seen on another guy and-

_dammit_

Stubbornly Dean threw one arm back, slamming it into the rocks at his back.

He didn't know what to do. What to say. What to think.

He was having an identity crisis all over a single fucking kiss, in the middle of Purgatory, with Cas missing. He should have gotten up and pressed forward, forcing everything down as per usual so he could do what needed to be done.

But for the first time, Dean wasn't a little drone.

He wasn't John's hand-made Sammy Protector, or some pawn for Heaven. He wasn't the only guy who could save the world, or the one responsible for some huge fucking mess that had to be cleaned up.

For once, Dean was just Dean. And he realized with a jarring, paralyzing terror that he had no idea just who Dean Winchester really was.

Castiel stayed outside. He listened, waiting and watching the expanse of trees.

Beneath him the formation of rocks that split into a cave was occupied by one Dean Winchester, who was uncharacteristically quiet.

Cas was admittedly too afraid to face the other. His attempt to convey emotion had been impulsive and terrible, and now as he stayed in diligent place as guard, he faced the idea that he might have ruined whatever he and Dean had.

Which wasn't much, seeing as how he'd already set fire to their bond once before.

He had made the wrong choice, risked everything for the wrong reasons, and as Dean had said.. Lost the one man who looked out for Sam and Dean the way a true father should. And in a small way, Bobby was the first father figure Castiel had known as well. He was the only man who had seemed even remotely father-esq to the angel, and the fact a human could do so much for a soldier of the lord struck him as the most beautiful testament to the race so many of his brothers and sisters wanted to end.

It was that conflict that had caused all this. That fight against Raphael's wishes, which had cost Castiel -ironically- everything he was aiming to protect. Once, when the night was upon him and it was time to take in purgatory or walk away, he'd told himself he could survive Dean and Sam and Bobby all hating him if it meant them surviving. He would sacrifice his happiness and first real family in order to protect it. Much like Dean with Lisa and Ben, though his humans would carry the scars of his betrayal with them.

But things hadn't turned out quite like that, and for a long time after he'd regained his bearings he'd wondered if that had been God's plan. What if the entire thing had been a test to teach him humility?

It seemed too elaborate for that, a rather egotistical thought. But all the pieces of the story fit, with him falling from grace and again being brought back to suffer the consequences of his actions, as if to learn something from them.

Of course, it all seemed painfully ironic to come so far, to finally gain back a small shard of Dean's trust, to be brought back to life only to wind up in Purgatory with Dean likely not speaking to him ever again.

Sadly the angel gave a small huff and half-sarcastic smile. It would be just like his father, wouldn't it?

Such a cruel, sad story to have to live through, all to learn a lesson. Castiel loved God. But briefly while perched alone he began to understand Dean's feelings concerning the creator from when they had first met.

Dean liked the impala. He loved Sam, and he loved his job. Most days.

He loved helping people, and making a difference in the only way he knew how.

He loved his parents for better or worse, and would give anything to save his mother from her fate even if it was impossible. He hated Heaven, as it was filled with 99% douchebags, one Castiel, and maybe one or two other okay enough guys.

And so came Cas.

Dean.. cared for him. He couldn't survive without the other, as evidenced by his current state and the absolutely insane amounts of drinking he'd thrown himself into when he believed the other dead.

He was mad at Cas, for essentially breaking the world only to refuse to fix it because he "didn't fight anymore". And he was still pretty upset that Cas hadn't trusted him enough to talk to him rather than just go make a deal with Crowley.

But, he came to slowly accept that as he thought of everyone he'd lost (which was, honestly, everybody by now sans Sammy and Cas). He'd once said at Rufus' grave that in death all was forgiven. And when Cas had "died" all had been let go. Dean had gripped strands of bitterness cause it was all he had left, and that anger was the closest comfortable emotion he could get to Cas.

But when he'd come back suddenly all he had was that anger because the Cas he knew was still gone, and suddenly the only connection he had to his first and only best friend was a familiar face and memories spoiled by purgatory and a fake God.

So now Cas was whole again. Somehow. He wanted to ask, but the angel had seemed uneasy earlier and now it would just be flatly impossible to bring it up without seeming like a dick. Assuming he ever saw Cas again at all.

Which brought a heavy sigh from Dean as he lifted his head up and leaned it against the uneven rocks behind himself. He royally fucked up this time.

It seemed like every time emotion was involved there was a fight, and every time there was a fight he shouted and the other person left. It happened with Sam (more times than he could count) and now it was happening with Cas. Tiredly, Dean shut his eyes.

This entire life was just too much sometimes. Too much Heaven and Hell and pain and suffering. It was too much work and too much loss and he never got any time off. The closest he ever had was Lisa and Ben, though even his mind choked and staggered on the names.

But he'd lost even them when things got too deep, and as always he'd been left with Cas, Sam, and Bobby.

But now Bobby was dead, Sam was back on earth (he hoped) and Cas was.. gone. He didn't know where, and he didn't know if he'd ever come back. Dean wasn't sure what the hell he'd do if he did, or didn't. He certainly couldn't mope around in a cave all day, that was for sure.

He would fight, naturally, when the time came. But for now he was slowly sliding onto his back, trying to sort out all the mountains of crap that were crushing him. It was a giant mob of every little thing he'd ever pushed aside, like Lisa and Ben's smiling faces and all the heartache of what could have been but never would be. There was the pain of knowing Bobby was gone for good, and hopefully in Heaven not somewhere around here. He'd been so caught up in saving the world (as per usual) he hadn't been able to mourn the absolutely final passing of the man. But no hint of tears teased Dean as he lay still, eyes shut against the darkness.

He was spent for now on crying and fear, as a personal crisis took a lot out of a man.

Now all he was left with was numbness, in his heart and his skin as he shivered just slightly in the cold.

Dean wanted to get back home, with Sam, and tie up any lose ends the leviathan mess left open. He wanted to ensure the world was yet again safe, then go have a beer with Sam and Cas and not have to worry about anything but what he wanted for lunch for a while.

Yet home was no where in sight, and his only ally was AWOL.

Escaping Purgatory looked to be an uphill battle at best, and slowly the hunter came to accept that he could very well die in this place. And if he was going to die here, fighting the stacked odds, he didn't want to be alone.

He didn't want anyone's help but Castiel's, and that single fact had a small bit of something resonating in his chest.

All over again the weight of the angel's absence struck him. Dean took a struggling breath in, trying to fight the heavy weight pressing him down enough to summon the oxygen he needed to form the words, "Cas. When are you coming back?"

They were quiet against the silence around him, spoken in a lonely, unsure tone. He waited, yet nothing answered him but silence. Weakly Dean sighed, rolling onto his side before curling up.

It was cold, and his head was beginning to ache.  
For the hundredth time he was revisiting questions of what he felt for Cas, and what to do about it. The usual reactions reared up, assurances he was straight because of all the women he fucked, and if anything he cared for Cas like a brother. Even though he knew for a fact if Sammy ever kissed him like that his brother would be in the floor in seconds flat with Dean screaming to find out what kind of demon was possessing him to do that.

So he was back to square one, asking himself what Cas meant and fighting denial.

He never once stopped to think of what Cas meant by the kiss. Never even debated if it was anything short of love. Because that was the answer he was dancing around, over and over in circles until he was so tired he couldn't even shudder from the cold anymore.

As his mind fluttered off into an absence of dreams to match the abyss of the cave's lack of light, Castiel dared to step closer in the darkness.

Dean hadn't seem him, unsurprisingly, and he hadn't said anything to hint the hunter into action.

The fact of the matter was, Cas was too afraid to push the conversation, and Dean seemed too tired to need more emotional strain on top of what the angel had already caused.

So, waiting until he was positive the hunter was asleep, Cas stripped his overcoat off and draped it over Dean before sitting down. He stared at the hunter briefly, watching as the coat did little to aid his shivering. Desperate to help, Castiel shifted to lay on his stomach, stretching one wing out to lay over Dean. He doubted it would do anything at all, but it was an action he felt better taking than not.

Of course, as soon as the unseen limb stretched over the other, Dean grunted and rolled.

Castiel watched in weak confusion, trying to understand the sudden squirming. It was when Dean moved one arm to pull the coat around himself tighter that Castiel jumped, as the hunter gripped the coat and arch of his wing as one, pulling them closer and exhaling soundly.

The touch of mortal fingers against his wing made the angel both nervous, fascinated, and happy all at once. He kept a close watch on Dean throughout the night, staying up just for the rare few moments where the hunter tossed and turned and pulled on Castiel's wing like some comforting blanket.

He wasn't clear on how the normally unseen, unfelt limbs were suddenly manifesting with adverse reactions from Dean. But for once the angel was content to let a good thing be just that, and relaxed through the entire night spent at Dean's side.

When Dean woke up, something soft was against his face. He was vaguely reminded of a time in which John had been hunting in Nebraska, and had left Dean and Sam with a plump old woman who had a strange love for feather pillows. She'd placed them on everything, even her couch, and while sleeping sometimes the older ones would tear in places and out would fluff various feathers and quills. It got rather painful at times to wake to being stabbed, but on certain nights when he was lucky enough Dean managed to wake to the soft rub of goose feathers against his cheeks.

Although frigid, the morning reminded him of that as he squirmed, mind sluggishly pulling out of sleep. He grunted once, getting ready to call for Sam before making breakfast for his brother and the woman kindly looking after them while dad was gone.

Of course, what he got as he sat up was a strange sensation of falling. The pillow fell away, upwards it felt like, away from his face and off into the air. Disoriented, Dean flashed both eyes wide open to find Castiel sitting up, straightening his back as two towering wings curled in on either sides.

Dean just stared.

There was Cas. And wings.

_And Cas. And wings._

And he wasn't sure which was more startling.

Then Cas glanced away, out the mouth of the cave where the dim darkness seemed less black and more gray. And suddenly Dean was worried he was about to leave, and he reached out to grab the angel's arm. As soon as he touched the other the coat on top of him shrugged down, and suddenly Dean was grabbing Cas' arm while staring at his lap where a balled up trenchcoat lay over him.

Dean was speechless. Cas seemed vibrantly nervous as he squirmed slightly, wings curling even tighter to his back. Dean's head spun, his headache returned, and impulses became the only thing he could rely on as he moved to lay back down, still holding onto Cas and half-dragging the other closer as he shifted.

"Cas." Dean groaned, still groggy and wondering if this was a highly detailed dream. "Don't go anywhere." The hunter slurred almost angrily, sounding as stubborn and serious as ever.

"I won't." Cas nearly whispered in reply, sounding strange. Dean let go long enough to rub at both eyes before slowly opening them and staring. Cas. And wings. He blinked a few times.

"You've got wings." He stated dumbly. Castiel blinked once, and then Dean was sure he was dreaming as he watched the angel crack a meek smile that filled the void he'd felt since the other had last left.


	5. Broken

**A/N: **I do not own Dean/Castiel/Supernatural/Purgatory/Ect.

Also, thank you all so much for your kind comments and favorites. I finally figured out how to check reviews (as I'm not technologically advanced) and was absolutely touched by all the things you guys said. It got me very excited to write, and I really hope you enjoy this chapter and the many to come!

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Seether & Amy Lee's _"Broken"_

* * *

For the second time Dean rubbed his eyes as he tried to focus on Cas.

His vision still felt weak and blurry, and the not-quite-daylight from outside was helpful but confusing. Momentarily the hunter glanced outside, trying to understand how long he'd been asleep by judging the environment. But they were in Purgatory, as he was reminded by the outside. And so all he could tell was that if it was daytime, this place's light was dim at best.

Of course, it was hard to focus on the pre-dawn-esq lighting when Cas was in front of him, slowly standing with wings shifting in a way Dean found natural and unnatural all at once.

In all the few times Cas had wings in his dreams (not that he would admit dreaming about the other) they always moved the way they were now, fluid and expressive. Dean stared at them a while longer before the other man's face demanded his attention.

And just like that a lead weight fell on his gut and the Winchester boy was left feeling impossibly small and insecure. Castiel seemed to notice, as again he glanced away in debate of leaving. This seemed to be the push Dean needed as he almost frantically moved to stand, gathering up the angel's coat as he did so.

Gingerly he ran one hand over it as it folded over his arm. Once upon a time, he had folded the coat up and placed it in the ground. He'd filled a shovel full of dirt, and tried for a solid two hours to move his hands and toss the first pile over the signature piece of cloth.

Of course, Dean hadn't been able to bury the trench coat or the memory of Castiel, and when the time came that he'd given the coat back he had felt the smallest bit of relief over his inability to let go.

Now, looking down at it and running one hand over the texture he'd become intimately familiar with, all the hurt and loneliness and hopelessness seemed fresh.

"Dean?" Cas asked quietly, afraid to talk but infinitely concerned about the hunter's sudden heartbroken gaze down to the beige over coat.

All at once Dean looked up, blinking glassy eyes once before clearing his throat and shoving the coat stubbornly towards it's rightful owner. Just before Cas could question if he had offended the other with the token of care, Dean spoke.

"Thanks." He said sharply, trying to avoid any display of emotion as per usual.

Outwardly, it seemed whatever had consumed him yesterday had passed, and with the deep slumber all his emotions had been stuffed back to their rightful place. But inside Dean was a mess. The dam had broken, and he couldn't manage to get everything straightened out the way it once was. Most things were right again, like his instinctive drive to avoid any long thank you or display of appreciation ranging too far into "not-manly-land". But so much more was wrong, like the way he couldn't stop staring into Cas' eyes when he looked up, and how the fear of Purgatory inside him had shifted into a sensation of worry that Castiel would leave again.

Dean could face anything, just not alone, and that fact settled like a rock in his stomach as he squirmed. Desperately he looked to the mouth of the cave, where a grey sky was lightening slightly and spindly trees were becoming less and less eerie.

"So." He spoke firmly, trying to steel himself and shove everything down. He and Cas were still in danger, after all, and running in circles in his head wasn't going to fix anything.

And there it was, the familiar inner-loathing that came with wasting time and indulging in emotion.

Dean felt sick with himself for wasting the whole night in hysterics over his sexuality (which he was sure now was straight- of course) and other emotions relating to the deader-than-dead Bobby and Fallen Angel.

Shoving it all forcefully away, he nodded at the small opening and shoved both hands into his jacket's pockets. "Whatever knows we're here hasn't decided to say hello yet."

Dean didn't notice Castiel ease at his side, thankful things were back to normal. Although secretly his heart gave a painful squeeze at the realization that this meant Dean was not going to acknowledge the kiss.

"Indeed." Cas commented neutrally, stepping forward and edging towards the outside. He still held Dean's reprimand for staying silent close to heart, and thus even without anything to say he was determined to speak.

Dean lingered behind, watching the towering black masses move with the angel's steps. He also noticed the precise cuts at the back of Cas' shirt, allowing them freedom.

"When did that happen?" He commented before moving forward and nodding towards the cuts.

Castiel looked confused for a moment, then gave a small nod. His demeanor grew briefly awkward as he looked away.

"Meg cut them for me." He said hesitantly, worried Dean would grow sour at the topic. He didn't like Meg at all, as much Castiel knew very well. As expected, Dean grimaced at the demon's name.

Eager to move the topic onward, Castiel began to survey their surroundings while speaking.

"I complained once that clothes were uncomfortable. While my wings do not take physical form on earth, I can still feel them. It is.. _odd_. To know a part of you is there, but be unable to fully feel it. Shirts against my back always felt wrong. I.. would liken it to an amputee pressing a rag to where a limb is missing. He would be aware that something should be there, and the touch only serves to remind of its absence."

Castiel turned to Dean, who gave a short little nod while staring quietly at the mentioned wings. The angel felt odd talking at such a length about something personal. In all the time he'd known Dean, the other had never shown any interest in anything about him. Thus, the most Castiel was used to speaking about to such a long degree was Heaven, and only then it was so Dean could learn how best to combat the angel's siblings.

"Do you.." Dean began, then paused and pointed to the coat still in Castiel's hands. "Want me to cut holes in that?"

The angel blinked down at the coat. He hadn't even thought about it, and given the current state of things, he couldn't wear it comfortably unless there were holes. Castiel nodded, offering the trenchcoat.

"So how come those things are out now anyways?" Dean asked idly as he took the coat and rummaged in one breast pocket for a small pocket knife. Castiel stared at it, wondering why the other didn't try to use it as a weapon before. But then the hunter flicked the impressively small blade out, and he understood its uselessness in combat.

"I would assume it has to do with this place. I am not familiar with Purgatory or it's rules, so I don't know what to think of this." Castiel held still as Dean held up the coat behind him, measuring the space apart and the size before moving to clumsily stab into the fabric and rake downward.

"Considering the fact that details of my true form like this generally prove adverse to mortals.." He dropped off as Dean handed back the coat, and moved to fumble with putting it on.

"I'm inclined to assume it doesn't mean anything good."

After brief moments of watching Cas fumble, Dean shook his head and stepped forward, grabbing the coat and coaxing Cas through the steps of pushing one arm into a sleeve, then one wing through a cut, the other, and finally his last arm. Upon shrugging the coat up to proper height, Cas adjusted the collar.

Dean stepped out of the way just in time to avoid one shrugging wing from smacking him in the face.

"Jeez, Cas, watch it." He sighed, backing up before carefully circling over to the angel's side.

Castiel's face lit up with concern and apology before dropping slightly.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I am not used to having to take such precautions."

Dean only stared, wondering how many times Cas had hit him with his wings on earth.

But that thought lead to many more considering limbs he couldn't see or feel, and by the time his face warmed the hunter swallowed roughly and shoved himself forward, into the trees and crackling twigs underfoot.

"I'm thinking since whoever's out there knows we're here anyways," he spoke while stepping over a large log, "We might as well be good guests and pay them a visit."

Cas followed closely behind, listening and offering a diligent nod as Dean asked if that plan "flew" with him. Ignoring the likely accidental pun, he gave his quiet approval before the two moved on, rather blindly wandering in search of a stranger.

Hours had passed. Dean was sick and damn tired of walking, and while Cas wasn't winded at all he still sat quietly as Dean slowed and stopped at a clearing. Trees were overturned all over the place, as they'd come to find. Most of them were shattered, aftermath of fights and dangerous obstacles that left wood shards all over the ground. Dean had debated using one as a weapon, only to find the jagged edges impossible to safely wield.

In the end he'd carried on weaponless and frustrated, kicking the wooden slivers as he found them along the way. Every direction looked like every other direction. They found several caves and pits along the way, all empty but likely normally used. Once or twice, Dean tripped over dried out streams and river beds, cursing for the next twenty minutes onward.

All in all they found no leads, and no monsters. Whoever had called the purgdogs off had called seemingly everything back, leaving the two in a relative wasteland without water and no food but tree bark.

Castiel was silently frantic. Dean was a human, and thus would need food and water soon. His usefulness in a fight would deteriorate without sustenance, and if something was biding time to strike their strategy was highly effective. Dean couldn't fight while starved, and Cas could only defend them both for so long.

Then the wayward thought crossed his mind of dying. He would die for Dean without question, and if the situation was truly that dire he had heard stories of humans eating one another to survive before..

It would only be logical, and that fact made him less disgusted by the idea than he should have been. But deep down Cas knew Dean would never do that. He would use the last of his strength to bury the angel, then go down fighting like the stubborn man he was.

By the time Cas gave a small inward sigh Dean was up again, kicking some small broken off tree limb into pieces.

"Dammit!" The hunter shouted, burning up his strength with anger. He'd realized what Cas had. Whoever had ordered the retreat was waiting for Dean to die. His own frailty compared to that which he fought was infuriating, and knowing Cas would be fine if Dean wasn't so damn weak and useless only made it all worse.

"I know you're out there!" He screamed into the relative silence, wanting to beat in some monster face. "What, too scared to fight me head-on?"

In reply to his shouting nothing arrived but silence. Dean growled out a restrained shout before turning around to stare at Cas, who was calmly perched on a rotting log, elbows on knees and hands together in front of him. For a moment Dean thought he was praying before he looked up, wings shifting like a dog's ears with alertness.

Both eyebrows rose in a silent, _'Yes, Dean?' _though he said nothing aloud.

"Is there anyway you can tell where something might be?' Dean asked, not for the first time. Castiel stood, looking around the same way he had the last four times Dean had asked, and just like all the times before the angel vanished, only to return after tense moments of anxious fear on Dean's side of things.

When he returned the hunter eased, just long enough for the angel to shake his head. Another curse slipped out of the Winchester's lips as he turned away, looking out across the trees as if something would magically appear.

Dean wished Sammy was there. Knowing him, he'd have made a map and compass out of twigs by now and would be leading the way towards some big bag monster with his ridiculous survival skills. Dean had always made fun of Sam for showing interest in boy scouts, but while Dean was being taught how to kill an abaia, Sam was learning how to tie a proper knot and start a fire with just leaves and rocks.

Yet there was no Sam in this place, something he reminded himself he was grateful for. Sammy was in a Dick Roman-free world, hopefully not freaking out like Dean knew he was.

"Dean." Cas called from behind him. His voice, strained and suddenly serious, brought a lash of panic into the hunter's chest as he turned with wide green eyes. The angel was standing, hands balled into fists with shoulders taught. His wings were curled impossibly tight against his back, almost out of sight as a familiar form towered behind him, elevated by standing on the log.

"Haven't seen _you_ in a while, _Dean_." The old tone spat. Dean wished he could forget that sound as it slithered in his ears, throwing venom and hatred in his face. But more distracting than the voice, was the face. Twisted and black, coated in scars and scales, the _thing_ (he wasn't sure what to call it) was putrid and repulsive and all around one of the most sickening monsters he'd ever seen in his life.

It was suiting, considering who the black abomination was.

* * *

_Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, and KansasAngel94._


	6. Running Up That Hill

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Dean Winchester/Castiel/Ruby/Purgatory. Though "Vox" is my own (shoddy) creation for plot progression purposes.

Thank you everyone again for all the lovely comments! I really hope this chapter goes over well. It's one I'm possibly the most nervous about, due to the introduction of Vox. Since S8 isn't out yet and won't be for a while, I'm taking a lot of liberties with Purgatory's system, and characters. While there will be a lot of reappearances from older (dead) characters like Ruby and the mentioned angels, there will also be a few OCs meant to help the plot roll smoother, like Vox.

Anyways, I really hope you guys like her. Or at least don't hate her. I don't know if we'll be seeing her again much, that depends on what you all think of her.

Also, the song for this chapter was a really hard choice. I almost left it blank, and I knew where I wanted this part to go without musical assistance. But in the end I settled for this song, more as Castiel's view on things and a good idea of what's to come in either the next chapter or one after it.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Placebo's _"Running Up That Hill"_

* * *

"Hello, Ruby." Dean growled bitterly.

Her voice was unmistakable, even if her form was different. More accurate, in Dean's opinion. For the most part, it was indescribable. He couldn't find a better word to tag onto the form other than "demon". He'd seen dozens of pictures in books before, but he'd never actually seen something so scaled and sleek and dark before. Among all the images of demons he'd seen, Ruby was surprisingly father on the reptilian side. Her coal black eyes (all four of them) blended into her oddly-shaped face, and the tail that dug into the ground behind her with it's weight seemed illogically spiked and hard to move. It hung behind her limp as she stood, inhuman feet spread and clawed barely-human hands curled around a long serrated knife. The gleaming black black was held to Castiel's throat, contrasting against his pale skin and white/beige clothes in all the wrong ways.

The entire scene grated Dean in the worst possible way, and without a weapon all he had was his mouth. Which, as Ruby's own split into a creepy grin, was effectively silenced by the sight of the jagged teeth splitting in various directions. All of them were razor sharp, and as she opened her mouth to speak he glimpsed the multiple rows lined up behind the first.

Despite lacking any logical ability to form human sounds, when Ruby's lips moved words indeed formed, reaching Dean in a crawling sickening fashion in the voice of her last vessel. The one he and Sam had put in this awful place.

"Hellooo Dean." Ruby cooed darkly, pointedly pulling the knife back against Cas' throat further.

The angel was handling himself well, dead silent and still, looking down as if to glimpse Ruby's arms and get a feel for her position. Dean was briefly proud of the little solider before focusing on the enemy before him.

"What brings you to a place like this?" He asked sarcastically, raising both hands in question before letting them drop. Ruby's eyes narrowed as she hissed inhumanly.

"_YOU_ did." She snapped. And that lapse of distracted anger was Cas' only chance. He shoved back, pushing the demon off her balance and tumbling back with her. All at once Dean was running, clearing the log in seconds flat and landing with one knee digging into Ruby's left shoulder as Cas rolled right, out of her grasp. Dean reached for the knife in her hand, only to have her jerk away from his hand and back again, attempting to lodge the obsidian weapon into his outstretched arm.

Castiel was there in an instant however, and Dean was ready for the second his hand touched her skin. He winced, turning away as he saw the angel reach for her face, and as soon as he shut his eyes she screeched through the emptiness, writhing beneath his weight and Cas' grip briefly before the hunter felt his knee thud to the ground.

Where once there had been Ruby, suddenly there was nothing.

"Grab the knife. We need to go." Castiel almost barked as he stood, turning sharply on his heel. Dean did so, at his side with adrenaline driving him forward step by step.

"What the hell was that?" He asked, knowing half the answer.

"Ruby's true form."

"That's what you normally see?" Dean asked, half curious and half disgusted. Castiel offered a short nod.

It was no wonder he always seemed to be repulsed by demons. Though that line of thought lead him to Meg, and questioning why in the hell the angel put up with her.

He wasn't jealous. _Not at all._

Barely even a few feet away, and a twig snapped behind them. Dean turned, getting half a second's worth of a glimpse of Ruby's black body charging after him before he whipped around and threw himself forward, charging through the brush with Cas at his side.

"I thought you killed her?" He shouted. Castiel, barely breathing heavy, only blinked and stayed forward.

"This is Purgatory, Dean. Where is she going to go?"

Cursing to himself, Dean leapt over obstacles and darted around trees, always looking for Cas after every dodge and volt to make sure they stayed together. Idly he wondered why the other didn't just teleport them somewhere safe, before remembering the brief times they had traveled through time, and the explanation that grace was not an unlimited resource.

So he kept on, breathing heavy and winding around pathways until at long last, the sounds of chase were gone. Dean ran until Castiel signaled to stop, and together the two came to pause and stare at the familiar nothingness on all sides.

Dean opened his mouth to ask the obvious, just in time for a loud shattering crack to sound overhead. Dean's head jerked up instantly, narrowing his eyes against the hail of wood and broken branches as two figures came tumbling down into the semi-wet earth.

Not for the first time in his life Dean felt Cas' hand shove him back as the angel moved forward, getting between the hunter and the mess sinking slowly into the ground.

Ruby's body was still, pinned beneath some other black mass in the miniature crater.

"I told you to _stay_." A wicked voice peeled as the ebony mass on top writhed, slowly standing in the shape of an averagely-sized dog. Beneath it, the scaled demon let out a low hiss that steadily built until the creature moved and struggled to stand. The dog barked once resolutely, slamming a single paw into the demons' chest and flattening it to the ground.

"Is it time for a vacation, Ruby? I'm sure you'd love it in Heaven." The dog, speaking in a snapping female bark, stood tall and looked down it's nose at the demon.

Silence stretched. Dean debated making a break for it before Bingo turned him and Cas into minced meat. But the angel was still, staring forward resolutely as if whatever the dog was, was no threat.

Finally Ruby hissed, screeching something in a dialect of latin even he didn't know.

And then it was gone, the dog left to stand on the ground casually before turning.

It's face, sleek and inky, held three rows of two glowing red eyes that narrowed in on the two.

"Castiel." It spoke, then turned to Dean.

"Dean Winchester."

Slowly the animal moved forward, it's body writhing like shadows under a roving light before it twisted into an elongated form and came to rise before the two as a hopelessly pale black-haired woman.

She was naked, all but her black hair, which was clumsily cut into a boy-short style that further emphasized the pupiless blood red eyes adorning her otherwise human face.

"You don't belong here." She stated flatly.

Castiel nodded, and Dean scoffed.

"No shit, lady." He sighed, frustrated and confused. Among other things.

He tried to stay focused on her face, staring at the round features there rather that those lower.

Of course, it was hard to keep eye contact as she glared at him with the empty red eyes and placed one hand on her hip.

"Just who the hell are you?" The hunter quickly added, too impatient to deal with another monster's word games. They were all the same, either trying to lie their way out of getting ganked, or going into some villain monologue before -again- _getting ganked._

Although here killing her wouldn't do any good, even if he was able to.

For a moment, all was stiffly silent. Cas glanced at Dean in silent reprimand, wishing for once the impulsive man would learn when it was best to play humble. He loved Dean's headstrong nature, though he knew one day it would cost them their lives. Just hopefully not today.

"I am the one who controls this place, Winchester." She stated coldly, remaining patient but clearly annoyed as she looked slowly between the hunter and the angel.

Dean, naturally, didn't care about anything but getting answers. So he stared at her, the unfamiliar body and odd eyes.

"Eve?" He grunted, eyebrows coming together in skeptical confusion.

The woman barked a loud laugh that echoed through the trees and sent her slight form tipping backwards.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" She sneered in a tone both wicked and amused.

"No, you arrogant worm. Mother would never waste her time on you, even if your presence here is impossible."

Before Dean could ask she held up one hand, stopping him short before turning to Castiel.

"Angel. You should keep your human on a tighter leash."

Castiel grimaced darkly, saying nothing for a time while he took a steadying breath.

"Dean does not need me to police him, nor would I want to."

Again, she laughed.

"How adorable, a soldier laying himself down next to a human." For half a second she grinned, exposing a dog-like maw before the expression calmed back into a tight-lipped smile.

"To further educate you, boy." Her attention returned to Dean. "I am the first Barghest. Though I suppose your kind prefer more personal names. So address me as Vox."

Barghest. More commonly called Black Dogs. Dean was familiar with the folk tales of black dogs that showed up as omens of death. He'd never heard a report of any actually existing however, so to see the woman in front of him use the term left him doubtful at best. She picked up on it right away, and crossed both arms with a scowl.

"Don't you dare say it." She snapped.

"Barghest were wiped out very early on in man's time." Castiel suddenly interjected, looking at the woman with a new level of curiosity. He'd seen the last of them die, though he hadn't been around to meet the first. It was fascinating, to come so close to one of his father's earliest creations. Even if she was rather rude.

"When a false fortune teller saw one of us, she called us omens of death. Ever since man was determined to kill us and even regular dogs unlucky enough to be born with a black coat. Other creatures always considered us lesser. Weaker. So, we died out quickly as those around use progressed into foolishness."

Dean couldn't feel bad even for a second. Ghost, Demon, or Black Dog didn't matter. Monsters were monsters, and if regular people had wiped one out, it was one less he had to deal with. Still, Castiel seemed intent on giving a soft stare of apology before the hunter opened his mouth again.

"If you're not Eve, then how come you said you controlled this place?" Dean didn't have time to waste. He mirrored the woman's stance, crossing his arms and all, and watched as she moved back a step and let her arms drop. Like before her body twisted, curling like a shadow and darkening until finally the result was the black dog from before, all six eyes trained on Dean.

"Because I do. This isn't Purgatory, Winchester."

His heart leapt hopefully into his throat.

"This is only the outside. The waiting line, if you will. Excommunicates and Last Repentants must wait here and earn their way in further. I'm the strongest one who willingly stays out here, so Eve put me in charge. Consider me Purgatory's Cerberus." She grinned a canine grin at the term.

Dean, however, felt dashed and angry all over again.

"Alright." Dean huffed, then turned around. "Then where's the exit, cause we want out."

Vox broke into staccato barks of laughter, shaking her head with the noises.

"You idiot." She snuffed at him, sitting down to calm herself before looking to Castiel.

Clearly he was the smart one, and she didn't have time to waste with fools.

Certainly not half-cocked hunters who didn't even bother to be grateful for her attempt to meet him on an equal playing field by appearing human. Castiel, rather, had shown regret at the extinction of her race. Plus, he was quiet. That was respectable.

"You're not supposed to be here, and I can't imagine anyone is going to be happy about seeing you."

She glanced away, left then right, then back to the angel.

"I told everyone to scatter when you arrived. I needed to ask Mother what to do before letting you get mauled. As is, I have my orders. I didn't want Ruby eating you before I got to talk to you, but from here on out you're on your own."

And just like that she stood, turning away and starting to slowly trot off.

"Wait." Dean snapped, running after the dog and feeling ridiculous for doing so. But, thankfully, she came to a stop and looked over her shoulder at him with all three left brows risen in question.

"Your orders? What the hell did Eve say? Eat us?" His blood was boiling again as his fight-or-flight response kicked up. Him and Cas were getting home, even if he had to kill every single monster in Purgatory a dozen times over to get there.

"If she wanted you dead, you would be already." Vox huffed. Again she looked around, checking the emptiness. Then, slowly, she padded back to sit awkwardly close to the two.

"This is Purgatory, Winchester. There are sections, and laws, and leaders for each one. You'll have to progress through them all to get out. The only way out, is in." She stared at the hunter intently, as if any of that made sense.

"Speak English." He growled out in frustration, tightening his grip on Ruby's knife.

Equally frustrated, the dog gave a loose grumbling growl before barking up at Dean's face.

"_Moron_. This is the gate. You can get past if you aren't a Last Repentant or Excommunicate."

"And just what in the hell does that mean?"

Vox leveled a very dull stare at the hunter before giving up and going back to Cas.

"Surely you get it, angel. Your siblings did."

Cas' face lit up with a moment's worth of joy before falling into a pain that shook even Dean.

"They're here? How many? Where?"

Vox blinked once, looking put off and sad and annoyed all at once.

"Of course they're here. All who have died beyond Heaven's repair are here. And I gotta admit, you shoved an awful lot of them in here recently. Was it spring cleaning time up in Heaven?"

Dean was two seconds from punching a dog. Which was the first time he'd ever felt that way towards and animal, and he hoped the last. Cas looked kicked down low, and didn't say a word back but hung his head with guilt and shame.

This time it was Dean's turn to get between danger and his friend, and as he moved between the angel and the dog, Vox backed up clumsily.

"Sheesh. Back off, Winchester." She groaned. "It was just a joke."

"Well it wasn't funny. Now answer my question, how to do we get out of here? _In English._"

For a moment, the dog debated speaking before giving a soft sigh.

"You keep your fat mouth shut about this, Winchester. Mother could have my head just for telling you what I've spilled already." Again, she glanced around. "You've been excommunicated from earth. That alone should earn you several years of stumbling around in here. But Eve said to let you through if you passed the second hurdle."

Dean rose both eyebrows, impatiently urging the other on.

"Last Repentants are generally people who try to accept a religion at the last second in hopes of getting to Heaven. They have to wander around here for a couple hundred years before we let em' in. Purgatory is really damn simple, ok? Each layer has it's rules of who's there and why, and how you can pass. At the center of it all is Eden, where Eve is. If you can get there, rumor has it she'll judge you. You pass, and people say she can send you to Heaven. Or, if you're dick enough she'll just boot you to Hell no matter where you're at."

Dean stiffened at the thoughts of Hell, and the sick possibility of going back.

"Of course, I've never heard of anyone actually getting let out before."

"Alright. So what, I'm pretty sure neither of us picked up Judaism or anything before getting booted here. How do we move on?"

Vox blinked once, searching his face before shaking her head.

"I can't say. Generally Last Repentants are religion-based. But sometimes it's just people who realized things a little too late. Big things, that could have changed where they landed. Think about it like a coin that lands on it's edge instead of heads or tails. Since you don't know which side it was gonna land on, you can't say it's heads or tails. So, those people get sent here. Whenever you land fully on one side or another, you can move on."

Vox stood, turning away again and walking off.

This time Dean didn't chase her as she left. Instead he looked down, avoiding Cas' stare.

A deep part of him knew exactly what it was that was keeping them back. And the fact that tackling it was the only way forward horrified him.

"Dean?" Cas called, but the hunter didn't even blink.

"I think we need to talk." The angel said gently, understanding the look on Dean's face combined with the words the dog had spoken.

Numbly, Dean nodded.

And then the sound of purgatory dogs ripping through the woods sounded all around them.

* * *

_Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, and KansasAngel94_


	7. No Roads Left

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Dean/Cas/Purgatory/Ruby/Ect.

I really recommend looking up the song for this chapter. Personally, I feel like it would make a good theme for the story overall. But that's just me.

**Chapter Soundtrack:** Linkin Park's _"No Roads Left"_

* * *

Dean wasn't sure if he was grateful or frustrated by the dogs nipping at his heels.

He ran full force through the woods, by now growing familiar with the path of dodging trees and clearing logs. Cas was faithfully beside him, sprinting along with his coat flared back and those wings risen behind him, arched but curled in and tensed in place. Dean wasn't sure if they helped him run faster, or slowed him down, and didn't have time to ponder it.

He didn't have time to do anything but run, and there was the problem.

They couldn't get out of this place, and this danger, until he sorted out his issues. He wanted to say it was his feelings towards Sam, or Bobby, or the end of the world that had them stuck. But he knew the truth, and having it brought up again after he'd so carefully pushed it down that morning only served to undo all his hard work.

Feelings were fraying out all over the place, thoughts were forcing themselves to the forefront of his mind whether he liked it or not, and all the while the hairless dogs were roaming, racing after the hunter and his angel as they dashed through the endless landscape.

Things came to an end when Dean couldn't run any farther. He panted out Cas' name once, a signal that the time for running was over. His heels ground into the earth, and as he turned to face what was pursuing them from behind Castiel slammed on his own brakes and kept both blue eyes ahead, focused on guarding Dean's back. As always.

One by one the red eyes popped up, exposed in the eerie pre-dawn light as the same thin dogs that had hounded him before. Only one or two crept up, slowing at Dean's halt and carefully stepping closer. As soon as one got too close his grip on the knife tightened. The beast barked and drooled and lunged, black goo splattering out of it's maw as it opened wide and charged Dean.

Years of experience kicked in, and in an unconscious movement the hunter twisted out of the way and slammed one knee into the beast's stomach, sending it prone before slamming the knife down into it's neck.

The creature writhed briefly before stilling, and suddenly the entire ring of dogs that had formed shifted and growled at bay.

"Dean." Cas spoke firmly from behind him. "Do you have a plan?"

The Winchester boy looked out across the growing surrounding of dogs and grit his teeth.

He didn't have any plan other than fight. Which was about normal. His silence conveyed as much, and from the corner of his eye as he tried to get a look at Castiel over his shoulder, Dean saw him nod.

And just like that, they fought. Hopelessly, against all odds, they turned and dodged and lashed.

Dean lodged the knife into neck after neck, sometimes having to slash away the red eyes or kick a squirming body off of him before moving in for killing blows. All the while Castiel was halfway dancing in circles around him, constantly moving in a flurry of beige and white, leading the dogs along before two strong hands swooped in to kill them two-by-two.

They were effective, but outnumbered. As much became apparent as Dean began to wear down. Even with a full night's rest, he was running on no food or water, with a great deal of his energy split between running and emotion already.

With a sickening crack one kick left a dog sprawling out limp, it's head turned at an uneven angle as another beast trampled over it to get to Dean, who drove the knife in deep into the animal's skull. Behind him Castiel had two of the dogs pinned, the bright righteous light blowing out of their eyes and splayed mouths as his wings rose and opened, intimidating the other animals into circling rather than attacking, which gave Dean an opening to get another.

But the enemy wasn't without it's own strategies, and just as the hunter assumed they would win without great harm, one of the dogs laid down. Another ran from a distance, pounding into the earth before leaping and spring-boarding off the first to gain air. Dean staggered, taking a faceful of furious purgdog. One arm jerked up with the knife, aiming the blade into the creature's side. But before he could land anything another was on him, digging rancid-smelling teeth into his wrist and prying the knife from his grip.

Dean squirmed, trying to wrestle the thing off with his only good arm. But adrenaline doubled in his veins as he heard Cas give a hiss of pain.

Off to the side the angel tumbled, brought down as one reckless dog leapt, digging a mouthful of teeth into one of his wings and falling, dragging Castiel down with it's weight. The angel fell flat on his back, struggling to rise as the dog ripped it's head to and fro, sending a flurry of feathers and blood into the air.

All Dean had to hear was the hiss however before he thrashed, carelessly ripping his wrist open further in the dog's mouth in order to unbalance the one over him. Reaching up, he slipped one hand against the dog's throat, shoving it upwards before rolling, successfully tossing the first dog away before rolling on top of the second. Prying his wrist free from the odd angle, he had the knife in hand in one second and plunged it into the dog's skull in the next.

By the time the hunter burst to his feet Castiel was rising slowly, right wing hanging limp with a mass of feathers missing from the arch. The left wing twitched and shivered, curling in tight to his back as he crouched low, readying for round two with the small pack prowling in front.

One leapt, and earned Dean's boot cracking into it's jaw, sending the dog sideways rolling across the earth. Another jumped, trying to take out the hunter's leg only for Castiel to grip the sides of it's face with both hands and squeeze, pouring the yellow-gold light from every hole in it's wicked body.

As it fell to the earth Dean had killed one more, and the final two took meager seconds to end.

When the five remaining dropped there was silence. More dogs awaited, among other things. But they stayed at bay, surveying the ring of dead bodies around the two intruders before thinking better of jumping in.

Death had no penalties here, as far as Dean knew. But that didn't make it any more of a pleasant experience. Thus no more of the dogs arrived to fight after nearly forty had been killed, and once a few heartbeats passed Dean accepted that fact.

He took one step forward, intent on trying to find some shelter, before wobbling on his feet and nearly falling flat on his face. Castiel was there, of course, wrapping two firm hands over the hunter's shoulders and keeping him together. Slowly the angel lowered Dean to the ground before crouching and inspecting the torn skin.

The dogs had gotten good holds on Dean's right wrist and face, and jagged tears ripped up both sides of his face, ending across his cheekbones to varying degrees. Despite all the blood there, the wounds were mostly superficial. What had Cas worried was Dean's hand.

He was having trouble gripping the knife, as much was clear right away. But beyond that the blood that pulsed out was thick, coating everything and costing the hunter precious energy.

Castiel laid two fingers onto the man's head without thinking. It was never a thought when Dean was in trouble. It was simply an action, one that had to be done. Thus Cas shut his eyes, feeling the soft reminder that he was never far from home in his chest as his grace warmed him from the inside out. It spread like some relaxing disease, wiping away any fear or concern if only for the moment, long enough to mend Dean's broken skin and stave off the threat of bleeding out.

When Castiel's blue eyes slowly opened Dean was turning his wrist over, inspecting it like he was surprised at this point that Cas could (and would) do such a thing. Finally his hold on the knife tightened and he looked up, offering a gruff thanks before standing.

As with Dean's wrist, his face was patched up to perfection, and Cas' wings both eased behind him, fully feathered and moving correctly. All was well again, and the momentary peace brought a tidal wave over Dean's head.

It was time to talk. To decide.

He had to acknowledge the kiss at some point, and he had to verbalize at least some small part of what it all meant. That was the only way forward, after all. And like hell he was going to let his issues keep Cas from getting home.

Yet the entire ordeal was easier said than done, and as things came to a point of admitting or ignoring, Dean choked. He turned away, looking around before muttering something about finding shelter before more dogs showed up.

Cas only nodded calmly, following the hunter around Purgatory without question.

In the end, they found refuge in another cave. Outside pits and half-hollow trees it was the only place even remotely hidden from view. Of course, Castiel did another check to make sure it was empty. Dean felt like screaming for every second the angel was gone, and when he returned the hunter didn't ease until he confirmed it was empty. In the front, at least. So they agreed to edge no further than they had to inside it.

Already the light gray sky outside was darkening, making Dean wonder how time worked in this place as he settled down against the uneven rocks. He knew he wasn't going to sleep for shit, and the threat of food and water still hung over his head.

Maybe, a voice prodded the back of his mind, if he would get the boot out of his ass and sort his shit out, he and Cas could move on. Maybe the next world would have cheeseburgers..

"Dean." Castiel called in the quiet. The hunter jumped slightly at the sound of the angel's voice. He'd been so quiet lately, so focused on the goal, Dean almost forgot he could speak at all.

He looked up at the other before looking sharply away. He knew what that stare meant. It was the soul-piercing stare that just screamed_ 'we need to talk'_.

The hunter shifted uncomfortably, staring at the dim light near the mouth of the cave that was slowly fading, plunging the pair into darkness.

After a small lapse of silence, the angel prodded again.

"I want to apologize." He spoke. Dean startled internally, turning to stare at the other in confusion.

"For what, Cas? You pretty much saved my ass out there for like.. the hundredth time in my life."

Castiel, while immensely warmed by the gratitude, still shook his head and stared at the ground.

"I feel responsible for our inability to progress." He stated, and then the guilt came over his features in an evident way that left Dean feeling uncomfortable. He wanted to reach out and wipe it away. To give Cas nothing to worry about for at least a moment. But it was such a ridiculous feeling. He scorned himself, staying rooted in place with green eyes darting away from the guilt-ridden face.

"S'Not your fault Cas." Dean said lowly, face tightening ever so slightly with the renewed urge to reach out to the other. But the angel wasn't accepting that answer, and gave a small sigh of frustration.

"It is, Dean." He retorted, looking up to stare with bitter determination at the hunter.

It _was_ his fault. He had kissed the other man, opening a Pandora's box and threatening their entire bond. If he had just had better self-control.. If he had just been able to display better social skill and communicate..

"If I hadn't.. kissed you.." He mumbled. He knew the words would hit a nerve. He knew Dean didn't want to talk about it. But it had happened, and it was Cas' fault. Like so many other things.

He just wished the human across from him would scream and rave and get it out of his system so they could move on, out of this place where Dean's fragile mortal body was constantly in danger.

Dean's face soured almost instantly from the words.

Cas really thought this was his fault? He honestly believed he was to blame for the mash of emotions going on? Sure, in a way he was. But if anything the kiss had brought to light things that had always been there. If anything, he had helped. If they had met Vox and been told about Purgatory without Dean having in mind what could be holding them back..

He didn't want to think about how long they'd have been stuck wondering around trying to understand it.

"It's not..." Dean squirmed, uneasy. This was coming too close to emotions for him, and every part of him was blaring alarms in his head, wanting to back pedal into something else. "I.."

He sighed, making a face before shaking his head and looking down. He couldn't stand looking at Cas, whose pink lips and messed hair seemed so perfect. They were parts of the angel Dean had grown used to. Enough so that when he'd believed the other dead, every person him and Saw saw in a trench coat caught his eye. When men with tousled brown hair walked by, Dean turned to inspect their faces.

Every time he only caught the lower half of a person's face, the shade of their lips lingered in his mind, pulling his attention back a thousand dark dreams away to Cas.

He had accepted that the other was never truly coming back. Sometimes Cas _'returned'_. He was always waiting for Dean at the bottom of a bottle, where a hazy dream would reunite the hunter with the other.

His best friend. His second brother. The only person in his life he'd ever gotten close to outside Bobby and Sam, and sparse friends and stand-in family.

Cas was the only one still alive, and the only friend he'd ever had this close.

Castiel was the only person who could survive his lifestyle, and it dawned on him then that as much as he loved Lisa and Ben, they were never going to be anything but his past. As would anyone like them. But Cas.. He had weathered every storm, braved every threat, and fought along side Dean every step of the way. He was the only person between Heaven and Earth that could possibly stay by Dean's side.

He was the only person who had. Who _could_. Who _would_.

Castiel was the only one Dean knew wouldn't go away.

"Cas.." He finally spoke, voice low and strained. He coughed, clearing his throat as the angel looked up at him with worried, curious blue eyes. Dean glanced away, suddenly flustered but having no idea what to do about it. "I.." Dean struggled.

But there was no time.

A howl lit up outside as rocks tumbled behind them.

Cas and Dean were on their feet in an instant as something huge came thundering up from within the cave. The two ran without having to think about it. Dean bolted left out of the cave, and Castiel fell in line beside him.

Always, they had been like this, the hunter realized.

Castiel was always right there, an angel on his shoulder. He was always throwing himself into the ring when Dean was in trouble, and always would.

They didn't need to coordinate or think or talk like he sometimes had to with Sam.

Cas was simply there, mirroring him, flanking him. Watching out for him the way only the closest of an ally or brother could. And in that exact instant, as something black tore up the earth behind them, Dean realized it. The truth.

Castiel was everything he'd always wanted in a person. Companionship. Trust. Strength to carry on together, with enough weakness to give Dean a purpose in their life.

_His_ angel was perfect.

_His_ angel was also slamming into the earth, pinned beneath Ruby's scaled weight as her mouth split open, five rows of teeth tearing into Castiel as Dean came to a screaming halt, charging the demon without a second thought.

_His_ angel was going to die.

_Dean would not let him do so alone._

* * *

___Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, and end butterfly._


	8. Send Me An Angel

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Castiel/Dean/Ruby/Purgatory/Ect.

I apologize in advance for what you're about to read.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Zeromancer's_ "Send Me An Angel"_

* * *

"_Cas?"_

"_**Cas?"**_

Dean fiddled with the knife in hand, playing with the point against the wooden table he sat on.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" He asked impatiently, to which Bobby leveled a stern glare at him for.

"Sorry." Dean sighed, twirling the knife one last time before setting it down. "Touchy-touchy, huh?"

Bobby didn't say anything. He didn't need to, because Dean knew if anyone could pull off a ritual to summon whatever had blinded a woman with it's mere appearance, it was Bobby.

So they waited, as they had been for the last long while. And, just as impatience was flaring again, the silence was broken by the roof dancing.

Dean looked up, watching the tin slivers quake overhead.

Reflexively his hand found the shotgun on the table as he stood, watching the dance before turning to the barn's door. Bobby fell in line beside him, armed and ready. Yet nothing more than the racket arrived to greet them.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." Dean shouted over the noise. He looked around, from ceiling to door, hoping things would calm just in time for the light behind him to shatter. He ducked, glancing at Bobby as he turned to see the blown bulb cascade glass onto the floor.

Bobby was safe, but no sign of a monster came up. Not that he could really tell, as in a swift moment all the lights screamed and burst, one by one towards the door.

The wooden doors creaked and pushed, shoving inward as the thick wooden bar that was holding them shut bent in two. Dean squinted, trying to make out through the sparks and noise what was about to come at him.

Slowly but surely the form came into view. A beige over coat fell over it's human body, hiding most of a black suit and overturned blue tie. The eyes, surprisingly blue rather than black, were dully set on the two hunters.

It walked forward, fearless, despite the guns both Dean and Bobby held at the ready.

As sparks fell over it's shoulders Dean watched the light burn and fade around his face.

He looked human, but that never meant anything before.

As it kept advancing Dean grimaced, pulling the trigger and watching the shotgun blast pierce the stranger's coat. The hit did little to nothing other than fray his clothes, and as Bobby unloaded another round into the man, it proved to have as much effect as asking him politely to stop.

Dean's heart was racing as he turned, sharing a panicked stare with Bobby before moving to the table. The demon-killing blade was within reach, and in moments Dean had it in hand. He lunged at the still-encroaching monster, who only blinked at him, giving a passive stare as if the entire fight was a waste of time.

"Who are you?" Dean growled while lowering slightly, readying for a hands-on brawl.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." The figure stated flatly. He stared at Dean not with malice or violence, but calmness. It was unnerving, to say the least.

"Yeah?" Dean growled, watching the other in expectation of an attack that never came. "Thanks for that."

And with a swift movement he jerked, lodging the blade deep within the creature's heart.

But he didn't budge. There was no sign of pain, or death, or even care over the action. Rather, he kept his blue eyes locked on Dean, watching his face. As Dean inched away, staring at the knife staying tucked in the man's heart, the stranger did the same. He waited a brief moment before grabbing it, and pulling the weapon out casually while returning his stare to Dean as if to say _'Now what?'_.

Dean didn't have an answer, and in panic he looked to Bobby, who rose the iron crowbar in hand up, lashing down only to have the coated man turn calmly, stopping the blow flat with one hand.

He held it firmly in place before reaching with two fingers. As easily as breathing he held the touch, and Bobby dropped to the floor with a thud and clatter.

"We need to talk, Dean." The man spoke as he turned, still staring at the hunter with the calm blue-eyed gaze utterly void of viciousness or evil. It was almost pleading, and something about that jarred the hunter out of his skin.

He glanced to Bobby in panic, silently asking what the hell had just happened. The only response given after a small stare was the word _"Alone" _being tacked on to his statement.

Naturally, Dean's only concern was Bobby. He dropped, checking the man's vitals and trying to search his brain for what could drop a man with two fingers in four seconds.

Feeling a pulse, Dean eased only slightly before turning to stare at the man who was flipping through one of Bobby's books idly.

"Your friend is alive." He stated, not even bothering to look up.

"Who are you?" Dean snapped, not eager for games or the monster's uncaring attitude.

"Castiel." The coated man stated. Dean snarled, "Yeah, I figured that much. I mean _what_ are you?"

Finally his interest was pulled away from the book. Eyes glided up to Dean's face, momentarily seeming surprised Dean didn't already know.

"I'm an angel of the lord." He said.

The following silence was deafening.

"_Cas?"_ Dean shouted.

Ruby was on the angel, pinning his arms flat with her own clawed hands. As her scaled head lifted , tail swishing once with a weight that ripped up the dirt around it, Dean was given full view of Castiel's body.

He wasn't moving. Blood poured out of the angel's ripped neck, seeping into the dirty earth and staining his coat and shirt. Dean felt sick. He wanted to gag and scream all at once, and as the fear bled into fury Ruby turned to him, seeming to grin with her rows of blood-stained teeth.

"_**Cas?"**_ Dean tried again.

No response. Not even a cough or blink or.. anything. Ruby laughed an inhuman, hissing laugh as one clawed hand moved, stepping closer to Dean.

And that was it.

He screamed, running.

_Not Again, Not Again, Not Again_ chanted in his mind, blaring out everything else as he charged, knife in hand and no hope but the thought of not letting Castiel die alone.

Ruby rose one hand up, tensing all the claws in Dean's direction before swiping with a speed the hunter couldn't match. He went flying, tumbling and rolling through the leaves and sticks before being stopped by a thick tree. It slammed into his ribs, knocking the air out of him as Ruby stalked closer, abandoning the dead angel prey.

Castiel's name was burning itself into Dean's mind.

It ran in between every fear, and every lash of anger. It was all he thought about, and in between his scrambling to get up and Ruby's second sadistic laugh, it was the one thing that thrummed constantly within him.

He wouldn't lose Cas again. _He wouldn't._

Not when he had just maybe come to the point where he needed to be.

Not when -_maybe, if it would bring the other back_- he could live with being less of a man.

Because without Cas, he wasn't one at all. He was empty, lonely. Nothing but a void soldier whose only job is to protect Sam and save the world.

That was who Dean Winchester was.

He was this emotion, this drive, this fury and fear and love.

He was completed by Cas, the angel of the lord who had landed on earth a soldier to an absent father.

Dean had criticized Castiel's blind loyalty, and in doing so had criticized himself.

Dean was Dean.

And in that moment, he was furious.

Ruby brought one clawed hand out again, and this time he was ready. Dean leapt, clearing the swipe and using the surprise to charge further in. He got under her reach, beneath her tall head and range of motion with her dangerous but bulky arms. And in that instant every single feeling wrecking havoc in his chest was pouring into the knife.

He gripped it with both hands, shoving as hard as he could and driving it hilt-deep into her chest. Scales cracked and shattered, breaking off and crumbling away from the sinking wound.

Ruby let out an ear-splitting howl that cracked Dean's head in two.

She staggered back, tripping over her own enormous tail before falling to the ground with black blood pulsing out of the wound. Dean backed away, watching her writhe for only a satisfied moment before he ran, skidding to a painful halt on his knees at Cas' side.

His body was pale, and cold. He wasn't moving, and both blue eyes were glossily staring up at the darkening sky.

"_No, no, no.._" Dean whispered frantically, clapping one desperate hand onto the angel's throat, as if it would magically put everything that had poured out back inside.

"Cas.. _Cas_.." The hunter whined.

Tears were pooling in his eyes, and as he tried to blink through them in frustration they poured over, falling over his freckled face, dripping onto the angel.

In the background Ruby's screams had died out. Her thrashing was gone, and all that remained in the emptiness was Dean, sobbing like a child.

Every single scar on his soul lit up on fire.

He missed Jo, and Ellen, and Rufus. He wanted his mother back, in an infantile way that made him feel weak and helpless beyond repair. He wanted his father to make him differently, in a way that Mary would have wanted. In a way that would have allowed him a life and will, like Sammy.

Dean wanted to be himself, whoever that was, but that chance was gone as Castiel lay beside him dead.

Any hope -_any will_- to stand on his own two feet as Dean Winchester, not Micheal's Vessel or Sam's Brother died out. It faded, flickering like a weak flame before extinguishing and leaving behind no more than the smoke of what once was.

"Get the hell out of here." Dean growled, refusing to believe.

"There's no such thing." Slowly his voice shifted from anger to pure disbelief.

His mother had always told him angels were watching over him.

His mother had always been lying.

"This is your problem, Dean." Castiel said as he moved to stand closer to the cold hunter.

"You have no faith."

What looked into Dean were eyes full of conviction and belief. Nothing could shake the man before him, and fruitlessly the angel tried to convey that, in hopes of it filling the hunter's chest the same way it did his own.

Dean glared, not wanting to listen. Not wanting to hear these words.

But a crack of thunder jarred his stubbornness away, and for a brief moment all there was, was lightning flashing, and the shadows of two black wings unfurling behind the man.

When the rolling thunder stilled, they stared at one another in silence.

Dean's lips moved to speak, and the angel inhaled, tensing and seeming every bit of the soldier of God he was.

"Some angel you are." Dean sneered, looking down his nose at the other. "You burnt out that poor woman's eyes."

_That's right_, he told himself. A kind, loving angel would never do that. So the stranger was lying, somehow, or he wasn't as benevolent as he wanted to seem. Dean clung to any reason to not trust the man before him.

Yet a sea of guilt and regret opened up as the man's once confident head dropped. He looked to the floor, left and right, then stepped forward with hands raising to emphasize his words.

"I warned her not to spy on my true form." His words eked out like pleas for Dean to believe him.

"It can be.. _overwhelming_ to humans."

Dean stared. He couldn't fight the words. He didn't have any more cards to throw up in the man's face.

And then it clicked.

"So can my real voice." Castiel said. "But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you _talking_?"

The angel gave a small nod, wide blue eyes focused on Dean's face with a look of clueless fact.

"Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

Cas' lips pursed as he looked down in silent apology. Quietly his head gave a tiny nod.

"It was my mistake." He said, then glanced back up with an expression of utmost sincerity.

"Certain people, _special_ people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them."

After all, he had pulled Dean from Hell. How much closer did he need to be for a human to see him?

"I was wrong." He tacked on flatly, accepting his own folly.

"And what _visage_ are you in now, huh?" Dean spat. Here was his new chance to not trust the angel. To shatter his credibility as righteous. "What.. Holy.. Tax accountant?"

"This?" Castiel looked down, taking hold of the coat and suit jacket with both hands.

"This is a vessel." He straightened the clothes and looked up at Dean, beaming with a certain degree of pride. Jimmy was a faithful man, whose contribution to the cause Castiel could not praise higher than accepting his very self.

"You're _possessing_ some poor bastard?" Dean spat.

"He's a.. Devout man." Castiel smiled. "He actually prayed for this."

Why didn't Dean understand?

"Look pal, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

It was impossible. Illogical. Angels weren't real. God wasn't real.

Castiel's eyebrows came together in confusion as his head tilted ever so slightly at the hunter.

"I told you." He said in desperate confusion, trying to decipher the hunter's reaction.

Dean refused to believe, and gave a short sarcastic nod. "Right." he huffed.

If the nutball monster wanted to play hardball, then fine. Dean could play.

"Then why would an _angel_," he slurred the word in unconvinced disgust, "rescue me from Hell?"

As he snarled Castiel came closer. Confusion turned to clarity as he understood the hunter's anger.

It was heartbreaking.

"Good things _do_ happen, Dean." He spoke slowly, again trying to push his own faith and security into the other. If only Dean could feel God's love, and the safety it brought. The warmth of grace and hope.

"Not in my experience." The hunter hissed at the angel, tensing as Castiel came even closer.

Still, Castiel could not comprehend Dean.

"What's the matter?" He whispered, pain reflecting in his face. Dean's denial.. his inner-hatred.. Castiel had assumed they had been effects of hell, but to see they were parts of the man he had saved..

His chest ached as he pinpointed the hurtful truth.

"You don't think you deserve to be saved.." He said softly, the pain threatening to crack each word.

Dean kept one hand over Cas' neck, peering into the lifeless blue eyes as he felt everything inside him shatter. No.. Not anymore.

_He didn't deserve to be saved, now._

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, and end butterfly._


	9. I Will Follow You Into The Dark

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Dean/Cas/Purgatory/Ect.

But I do own Vox and Fris

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Death Cab for Cutie's_ "I Will Follow You Into The Dark"_

* * *

"Dean. It's time to go."

Vox was out of arm's reach, otherwise Dean might have choked her by now. Every five minutes with this, and she wouldn't leave him alone. She wouldn't even let him cry in peace, but for once he didn't care.

What did it matter if someone saw him fall to pieces? What did anything matter without Cas?

It felt like losing Sam, _only ten times worse_, and now he had to go through it again knowing what he had accepted about himself.

So he didn't care how long Vox sat there, hanging her stupid dog head and looking away awkwardly.

Dean just sat there, holding on to Cas, unable to move to shut the angel's eyes but so broken and pained by the sight of them, staring up at nothing.

For the millionth time in his life, Dean was reminded of the suddenness of death.

You were never given twenty minutes to say goodbye like in the movies. There was no dramatic death scene, no drawn out dying moments. One minute someone you _just_ realized you loved was there, and the next they weren't.

You didn't get to say goodbye. You didn't get closure.

All you got was a cold limp hand in your own and the wet sensation of blood seeping all over your hand as you try to put it back.

But Dean broke Castiel every time he touched him, and now was no different.

If it wasn't for him, the other wouldn't have ever questioned Heaven. He wouldn't have fallen from grace, he wouldn't have made a deal with Crowley, and he wouldn't be here, dead.

It was all worth it, if he was alive. But gone forever, Dean couldn't view any of the good moments as anything more than his fault. His disgusting, selfish fault. This was what he got for caring about someone.

_Of course._ He laughed weakly.

Of course, that was it.

The moment he loved someone, they died.

The very moment he accepted the feelings that had been rolling around inside him for years, the subject of all those feelings was taken away.

"Dean." Vox called yet again. "It's time to go."

"You know what, you stupid bitch?" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Just shut up! Go away! I don't _want_ to move on, I don't _want_ to get out!"

Vox blinked six red eyes at Dean slowly.

"There's no point if he's not going to be there!"

The dog let out a long, low sigh. Slowly she stood up, walking over to Dean's side and biting down on his jacket sleeve. Dean thrashed, attempting to throw her off. But the monster had an iron grip, and struggling only made it easier for her to drag him back, away from the angel.

Every cell in Dean's body was on fire, screaming Cas' name and shoving the hunter back towards him. Dean kicked and thrashed and tried every move in the book. But Vox was stronger, and he came to realize while lashing out at her, her body was no more than immaterial shadow, breaking apart at his swipes but somehow still holding on physically to keep him in her hold.

When Castiel was out of arm's reach, Vox let go. Dean scrambled to get out and go back to him, but it was too late. The barghest let out a loud, peeling howl and suddenly the world around Dean shifted. The ground darkened, the trees faded, and the world became no more than a black nothing.

"Vox!" He shouted angrily, staring at the place Castiel's body had once been.

"Put me back, dammit!"

But no answer arrived. He sat in the black, silent abyss all alone.

It was, quite possibly, even worse than hell.

_First order of business: Blow up the lab._

There were hordes of panicking leviathans all around, Crowley and his men were gone so some pretty pissed off ones were reattaching their heads, and Sam had little more than his own brain to work with.

In a confused panic he set aside what needed to be done.

Sure, there were about twenty other things ranging from getting Kevin back to finding Dean and Cas. But for right now he had to focus.

So everything else was pushed away. Sam ducked low behind a desk, avoiding roaming Dick Roman goons long enough to poke through the small lab room for supplies. He maybe had enough to rig up a small bomb, but unless he found somewhere pretty damn nasty to put it, it wasn't going to do much.

And then his cell phone rang. And like an idiot he hoped it was Dean, calling to say he was half a state away, confused but safe. Instead, the number on the screen was jumbled and Sam felt a wave of stress roll over him as he flipped it open expecting a new problem to pop up.

Instead, it was Charlie.

"Sam, you need to get out of there. Go two doors down the hall and slip in the left doorway."

He didn't question her. There wasn't time. He gathered up everything he'd collected, stuffing the containers in various coat pockets before slinking to the glass door. No one was outside, that he could see, and with a silent prayer he ducked into the hall, ran up two doorways, and slipped into the left room.

It was empty, thank god, and looked to be a meeting room for lab staff. Quickly Sam moved to lock the door and started setting everything out on the table. From the phone kept between his shoulder and ear, Charlie rambled on.

"So after you asked me for the building layout I figured you two were going to do something stupid. And I mean hey, if you lose it means we're all gonna die anyways, right? So I figured I'd watch to see if I needed to go die in a bomb shelter or have a drink for you two. Which I mean, I know it sounds silly but I-"

"Charlie." Sam said firmly, trying to focus less on the chatter in his ear and more the materials laid out before him that were slowly starting to resemble a bomb much like the one they'd put in Dick's suitcase, only less cleaning bottle and more improvised C4.

"Right. Sorry." Charlie huffed, taking a small breath.

"So anyway, I saw Dean and the other guy poof and you were there and when you started getting that random crap together I googled it and you were obviously making a bomb- I mean duh, I would to in that situation if I knew how-"

"Charlie." Sam called again, sliding a small metal sliver pried off a computer over the top of the makeshift explosive. He really doubted the bomb would do more than tear up a room at best, but it was more than he'd had before.

"Sorry. I pulled up the building layout again, and I know where you can put it. Unless you already have a plan in which I guess I just called cause you looked like you didn't and I didn't want to just watch you and not try to help and-"

She cut herself off that time, catching the ramble and stopping as Sam moved toward the door.

"Down the hall. Turn right."

Sam nodded, threw open the door, and moved as quietly as possible, hoping Charlie had security cameras under her control to avoid sending him into a hot zone.

"Up those stairs, then a direct right."

Already he was thinking about how to get out, and what to do. Ruby was supposed to crash the impala out front as a distraction, so if he was lucky and it still wanted to run, he could maybe use it to get away.

"Down that hall. No, the other hall. Sorry. Ok, second to the left."

Sam stepped into the room that was essentially a thin hallway. Following Charlie's guidance he slowly but surely came to an observation room overlooking two large vats of the chemical garbage Sucrocorp was turning into food.

"If you can stick the bomb onto one of those vats, the chemical reaction should blow this place sky high."

Sam just stared at the empty room, eliminating leviathans from his list of problems. He wasn't sure where the hell they were, but not there was a good start.

"Charlie, how am I supposed to get out before it blows?"

She didn't have an answer right away. Same grimaced.

"Can't you put a timer on it?"

Sam looked around. There was possibly something in the room that could do that. Like.. his phone.

His new phone, that he'd gotten after his old one had been used in the last bomb.

Sam sighed heavily.

"I can do that. Charlie, thank you for this. I'm gonna use my phone, so don't call me back any time soon."

On the other end, the nerd gave a nervous affirmative. He hung up, pried the box in hand open, and got to work, all the while praying no one would walk in.

Something screeched like a door opening.

Dean opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity of nothing, only to be greeted by more darkness. He wanted to be frustrated, but couldn't find the energy.

And then everything busted open into a light that blinded him instantly.

Dean rose one hand over his eyes, which burnt from the exposure.

"Dean." Vox called. He snarled.

"It's time to go."

He was really getting sick and damn tired of hearing that. And just as he was about to tell her where _she_ could go, a hand came over his shoulder, pulling him forcefully to his feet.

Dean struggled, throwing the hand off and backing up while trying to blink through the light to see.

"Dean." The hunter was frozen in place.

He squinted, still blind but hoping with a frail, painful hope that just maybe his ears weren't screwing with him so soon.

The hand found his shoulder again and pulled, leading him forward. Clumsily the hunter staggered, blind and disoriented and ready to shove his foot up a certain dog's ass if this was all some kind of trick.

But when the light calmed into something manageable and he blinked once more to adjust his eyes, the form before him was no dog. It was tall, with messy brown hair and worried blue eyes.

Dean dropped his hand away from his face and stared in silence.

He wanted to call the angel's name, but his body refused to cooperate with his mind.

So he just stared at Castiel in shock, trying to understand but ultimately not caring how it was possible.

"Are you alright?" The angel asked tightly, looking the hunter over in detail.

Dean's mouth opened, but no sound came out. What was he supposed to say to that?

How.. Why.. What in the hell did the angel who got his throat torn out think he was doing, asking such a thing?

"As touching as this is." A familiar black dog interrupted from the two mens' feet.

"I _do_ have a job to do, and you two are holding me up."

Dean looked down, then back up, then back down.

Vox sighed, though Castiel was giving a small ghost of a smile to Dean.

"Where do you think angels go when they die, Dean?" Vox growled out, standing and walking away, into the still halfway blinding light.

"So you really are.." Dean looked at Cas with wide, stricken eyes. Cas' smile fell. He gave a small nod, before Vox barked loudly.

"He still abides by the same laws of Purgatory as you do. Climb the sections, get to Eden, ask to go home. Easy."

Except for the fact that now Cas technically belonged there. But if Vox said that was how it worked, Dean wasn't going to argue with her. Maybe if he didn't bring it up no one would look too far into it.

So instead he nodded, and turned back to Cas just to be sure it wasn't all some dream.

Hesitantly one hand rose, tempted to touch the other to see. But would that be inappropriate? Awkward?

Cas blinked once, head tilting slightly as he tried to understand the look Dean was giving him.

When understanding dawned he moved slowly, afraid of spooking the other as he took the hunter's hand in his own. If that wasn't convincing enough he slowly moved the limb, guiding Dean's hand to his throat, which was neatly put together and free of blood.

He didn't say anything. Cas didn't need to. All he did was stare, watching Dean relax with understanding and squirm with doubt before finally taking his hand back.

"Well.." Dean spoke lowly, unsure of himself as he turned to face Vox.

"What's next?"

The dog gave a canine grin, then lead the way forward.

"Frïs, who assigns the stones of pride." She stopped at an edge where her body began to fade, and turned to the two.

"I hope I won't ever see you two again." She blinked slowly at Castiel. "Especially you, angel."

He nodded in return, which caused her stare to linger.

"Take good care of him, angel. He'll need you in the next layer more than any other."

And with that, the dog was gone, and before Dean could ask what she meant the ground seemed to vanish right form under him. One hand reached out, placing a tight hold on Castiel's wrist.

The angel twisted in the hold, coming to wrap both arms around Dean from behind before both towering black wings spread wide, slowing the decent from the light into further darkness.

"Cas." Dean called, knowing it was now or never, as time was fleeting.

"I'm sorry."

It wasn't the three words Cas deserved to hear the most. But it was a start.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, and Jilly950._


	10. In Pieces

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Castiel/Dean/Purgatory/New Mystery Guest

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Linkin Park's _"In Pieces"_

* * *

"Close your eyes, Dean." Cas spoke softly as they fell.

With wings spread and body tense, the angel turned the once chaotic free-fall Dean feared would rip them apart into a soft, slow decent. Of course, it didn't really matter how fast they were going when Cas' hand came up, pressing the hunter's head into his shoulder. Because suddenly Dean's heart was going a million miles an hour and even with eyes shut and body tucked against the other he felt exposed and open, like everyone in the world was watching this and judging him for relying so fully on another man.

But then came the shift. And thoughts were lost as Cas dived, wings beating harshly once before angling and sending them careening down like a jet plane. Feet from the ground the angel twisted, landing firmly. When his grip loosened Dean took in a deep, half-alarmed breath and looked around.

As they disengaged the hunter moved, taking a step back away from the environment and closer to his angel.

All around them were buildings. Tall buildings that scraped the sky and pierced clouds far over their heads. Billboards and neon signs were propped up all over, and faces new and old shined brightly. There were older faces plastered in black and white that Dean didn't recognize, and a few newer ones that he did as they walked around in awe.

The sky was a bright blue, enough to make the hunter's eyes hurt. And most of the buildings he was coming to notice were glass. Sleek and reflective, he stopped at one to stare at himself. His hair was messed, his face splattered with stray bits of dirt and blood. The normal signs of a hunt.

He was almost proud of himself, holding it together they way he was, before smoothing down his hair slightly and scraping some of the dirt off his cheek.

"Ok.." he sighed after a calm inhale. "So, what's the plan?" He turned to Cas, who was standing in the center of the road watching Dean quietly. Upon the question the angel looked around, wings curling against himself as he surveyed the enormity of the buildings around them. As far as the eye could see the landscape stretched on, with smooth black roads that seemed to be made of darkened marble rather than tar.

"I would say finding food and shelter are still important." Castiel spoke after a moment to think. Dean still hadn't eaten, still needed some form of hydration, and upon a second look around Cas noticed none of the buildings had doorways. Thus, they were just as out in the open here as they were at the gate.

But Dean didn't seem bothered as he gave a nod and turned, setting off in the forward direction.

"I really hope there's a place with pie around here." He grunted, and Cas was unsure if he was being "sarcastic" or serious.

"I highly doubt there would be pie in purgatory, Dean." The angel commented matter-of-factly as he followed behind the other. As usual, Cas didn't bring up Dean's display of emotions. He didn't comment on the other man's apology, or the state he'd been in when Cas has pulled him past the gate with Vox.

He just followed, patient as ever.

After all his time with the hunter, he'd come to accept that patience was the only real path to take.

Because out of all their exchanges in the past, nothing had bared better results. He had tried explaining over and over to Dean what Heaven wanted and needed, and he had never listened. Castiel had gone as far as to fight Dean physically over the things he couldn't get through his thick skull. It had been effective, but overall simply waiting seemed to do the trick.

Though he had to admit that fighting did normally work faster. He didn't think he could hit Dean even if he had to at this point, however.

So he followed, quiet and obedient.

Dean commented once on his lack of talking, just in a passing joke. He wasn't mad like he had been before, but the memory of their argument was enough to urge the angel into offering brief comments on everything from then forward.

He didn't want to fight Dean. He didn't want to fight anyone. All Cas wanted was to get home, for Dean to be safe and sound with his brother and for the fighting to just maybe, finally be over.

The Winchesters had cleaned up enough messes, most caused by Heaven or some component therein, and when all was said and done, if they got back, Castiel knew he could fight again. For Dean's sake.

As usual.

The question came after a long, bright morning of wandering in the nothingness of the city.

Dean, frustrated and hungry, heaved a rough sigh and threw his back against the nearest building.

"So Cas." He called to get the angel's attention, though it wasn't really needed. He was always paying attention to Dean, even if he was looking in another direction.

"How are you.. Um.. _Whole_ again?"

Castiel didn't turn around as the hunter spoke cautiously. Rather, he kept staring up, trying to guess if there would be any entrances on the tops of the buildings. Strategically, he turned slightly so that Dean had view of half of his face before moving no further.

The words in return came after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"We're in purgatory." He responded lowly, giving up on the idea of an aerial entrance and moving to stare at the hard, glassy road.

"Yeah, I got that." Was Dean's only reply. He didn't get it, which wasn't surprising.

Cas wanted to "beat the bush" as he believed people said, but there was no point. There was nowhere to run in this place and he feared Dean getting upset again if he didn't say anything more.

Taking a slow breath in to steady himself, Castiel finally turned to face the hunter. Hands rose as if to aid the words, but for a long moment all he managed was to stare at them and breathe.

"When I.. Made the deal with Crowley, and took all of Purgatory in.."

Dean tensed. His face darkened. Eyes stayed locked on Cas, but a bitterness was growing in him.

The angel swallowed, very much aware of Dean's expression despite trying to stay focused on his own hands.

"You know how it ended." He put everything back. Except for the Leviathans, which ripped him apart.

"It is impossible to take something of the magnitude in and not lose something when you let it go."

Dean thought Cas had lost enough. His life, his sanity. What more was there?

"When you found me- ah, Emanuel-" he shifted. It was immensely awkward trying to think of those days. That woman. That life, that was as foreign as Cas could imagine compared to who he really was.

"I was whole, because I did not remember. When I took your brother's madness.."

The hunter twitched. Castiel briefly made a face before trying to push on.

"There was clarity, Dean." The words settled down unevenly over the hunter. He stared, trying to understand. But Cas' face was neutral and reserved. His downcast eyes were distant, off in a time and place Dean couldn't follow. He was elsewhere, and for the time Dean was no more than an observer looking in from the outside.

"I saw my father's world, and it's beauty."

"But I thought.. Sammy's wall.."

Castiel gave a brief smile. In half a second it was gone, but the image was burnt into Dean's mind.

"For your brother, Death built a wall to keep his damage at bay. You keep thinking of it like a disease. Try to imagine it more along the lines.. of someone taking everything that hurts you, your deepest fears and regrets and insecurities, and placing them somewhere you can't reach. If you think too much, embrace the feelings too hard, the wall will break."

Things were quiet for a long time as Dean tried to connect dots.

"In your brother, his wall kept his fear of Lucifer and the damage of Hell at bay. When it was removed, that paranoia of being in the cage was let loose. In me.."

A wave of guilt smacked Dean in the face. He'd hated seeing Sammy so frightened, so vulnerable. He hated having his brother attacked by something he couldn't fight. Yet somehow hearing Cas speak, thinking of the other in the same position.. It brought him more pain than the memories of Sam did, and that flooded him with grief. No one had ever come before Sam before. It was wrong, and he felt terrible. But Cas wasn't going to stop for that unseen conflict.

"I saw everything, Dean." Finally the angel looked up. There was a peace in his eyes that startled the hunter. "I realized my pride with Crowley, and my mistakes with Purgatory. And I realized exactly how small I really was. I saw the bees in the garden,"

Dean winced at the memory of Cas in the hospital, far gone and insane, talking about bees and flowers.

"I could see their paths. From the hive, through the flowers, and back home. It was perfect. Nothing needed to be added or taken away. God had made them that way. He had set them on that path, and every day they followed." He tried to smile up at Dean, but the hunter didn't return it. He didn't understand. The expression fell flat.

"So what, Cas? You're saying Sam saw Lucifer and you saw _bees_?"

Castiel shook his head. He knew Dean wouldn't understand.

"I saw their beginning, and their end. And I realized that _we_ are the bees, Dean." He waited, staring up at the other with patient, expectant blue eyes. But no realization dawned on the human.

Cas' lips pursed as he sighed, looking away.

"We think ourselves so big." The angel spoke lowly, staring up at the painfully blue sky.

"But to God, we are as small as bees. He has set a path for us, and we follow it. And it is perfect. It begins and ends, and no matter what happens along the way, it's part of a plan."

Finally, something in Dean clicked. Though it wasn't understanding.

"So what, you're trying to say all this shit is meant to happen?" He snapped. "Ellen and Jo were _supposed_ to blow sky high, Bobby was _supposed_ to die, and you were _supposed_ to nearly destroy the _whole damn world_?"

He'd thought he'd gotten over Cas' leviathan fuck up. But just like the last time the angel had "died", as soon as he was back the blame came with him.

Castiel shut both eyes slowly, not looking at Dean or his anger. He exhaled lightly, and shook his head.

"_Dean_.." Cas urged, wishing the other would get it. But he didn't. He wouldn't.

Just like before when Cas had tried to explain, it was like teaching a bear french. He didn't get it, he didn't want to get it, and pushing the topic only spurred scorn and attacks.

Castiel looked down at Dean with pity for a long moment as the hunter writhed in his own anger, waiting for a better answer. Castiel wasn't sure what he could say that wouldn't make the other even angrier.

"You keep looking at everything like you're the highest there is." Cas spoke gently. But it was no use.

"You know what, Cas." He snapped, getting up in the angel's face. "You're starting to sound like those pricks upstairs who keep calling all us humans monkeys. Is that what you realized? I'm just a bee to you?"

Pain and hurt and fear flared and mixed and Dean felt sick.

They were supposed to be happy. Like the last time he'd found Cas, it was supposed to be a good thing. But yet again things were tumbling downhill, and all he could think was that Cas probably thought it was all part of some fucking _plan_ that Dean was supposed to be _happy_ about.

Castiel sighed, shaking his head. He tried to find words Dean would understand.

But as soon as his lips parted a noise broke through the quiet.

Clapping.

It grew slowly around the corner, accented by the clacking of sharp shoes on the road.

Slowly a form turned the corner, and all at once the hunter and angel were at peace with one another.

"Oh dear, don't let little old me interrupt." The voice called.

Castiel tensed. His stomach dropped out of him and Dean's face drew together in suspicion, trying to understand.

"You're dead?" The hunter questioned, looking between the newcomer and Cas.

"Oh yes, didn't you know?" The man smiled pleasantly. "Cassy here killed me, actually. But no hard feelings love, right?"

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, and agrove._


	11. BlackBirds

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Castiel/Dean/Balthazar/Purgatory/Ect. Though Vox and Frïs are mine.

Sorry it's been so long since the last update! I took a small day's break to reevaluate my writing. I, personally, found it was too fluffy and took too long to get to the point. And while going through that I wound up being struck by inspiration at 3am, and filled a small notebook full of plot notes. So I have all of the Pride layer's events planned out already.

Aside from that, I had a late birthday dinner/party last night, and wound up getting smashed on accident. I'm so sore and sick right now it's not even funny. Apparently when I drink I like to pick fights... _Anyways_, my point in this is that I'm so stupidly late with this update because I'm only now on enough pain pills to be able to sit up and type. So I really want to apologize for the late nature of this update. But if all goes as planned I'll be making it up to you guys tonight with a few chapters.

Much love, and thanks as always for the continuing favs and comments. Sometimes reading over the comments you guys leave is the only thing that really motivates me to keep writing. I love you all, and I hope you enjoy the oncoming chapters.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Linkin Park's _"BlackBirds"_

* * *

His thin features broke into a charismatic smile.

Ruffled blonde hair and scruff framed an old, familiar face. Dean looked over the body, the thin fitted shirt under the suit jacket, and the pressed black pants that fell over polished, pointed shoes. By the time his eyes were trailing back up the body in confusion, Castiel had moved to shrug his shoulders, eyes downcast.

The angel's entire demeanor changed at the sight of his old friend, and Balthazar wasn't oblivious to as much as he continued to smile at the pair.

"Balthazar.." Castiel spoke lowly, struggling with himself. This was his friend. His brother. One of his closest allies in many battles, who was here only because of Cas' prideful folly. To face the other, practically an effigy to his guilt, was impossible. So he stared down at the ebony street, wishing he was anywhere but there.

But there was no running from this. He deserved it, to say the least. And if it weren't for Dean and his need to be protected and aided in his path home, Cas seriously debated allowing Balthazar to kill him and stay in the loop of dying and returning in Purgatory for centuries.

However, no ridicule or anger arrived. Balthazar simply looked between the two quietly. When it was clear Cas wasn't going to say any more, he just turned to the still confused Dean.

The hunter hadn't realized just how far Cas had fallen in his madness with popping Purgatory what felt like years ago. To see someone the angel had called a friend in this place, dead and trapped because of Castiel.. It was a slap in the face, to say the very least.

"Well, as much fun as watching you two fumble around is.." He turned on his heel, glancing forward down the road before looking back at the two with both brows rose expectantly.

"I'd really like to get inside before dark. So how about we move this awkward little reunion to my place? Sound good?"

Another grin. A small laugh. Balthazar turned and walked away without further word, and for a long moment Dean and Cas didn't move. Then, with a sigh, the hunter took a solid step forward. Upon his progression Cas slowly looked up, following behind in silence.

With one foot in front of the other the two trailed behind the dead angel, striding through the identical streets until finally the faint thrum of life broke the monotony.

Just as the road crested over a small hill, the bland city broke into activity.

Down below the road dipped into an expansive basin. Billboards bore faces of recent celebrities, with one or two even showing a widely-grinning Dick Roman. The glass spires arched higher, with swirling shapes and archways throughout the landscape. Architecture seemed to ignore any real physics, and despite Balthazar's continuation forward, Dean was left to stop and stare in awe.

People were down below in droves. They clogged the streets and sidewalks, talking and laughing and showing of all manner of clothes and physical traits. All over people were competing in small groups to hold the attention of their friends, and slowly the hunter realized that all the bodies in the city were human. Two eyes, one nose, one mouth. None of them (as far as he could see) looking anything more than ordinary. All that was unusual was the scenery, with some buildings reflecting a sun Dean couldn't see, while others stretched on in various colors of glass. Many of them held no sort of cover from the outside world, and as he finally moved on to follow Balthazar into the city's heart he could look up at any given moment and see through the walls.

People were cooking in ornate kitchens, watching television in luxurious living rooms, and once or twice the hunter wound up catching glimpses of people in showers, unashamed of the entire city being able to see them through glass walls.

Finally when Balthazar came to a stop outside a blue-grey tinted glass building, Dean was able to focus on something other than the hundreds of exhibitionists.

Past the front double doors was a lavish lobby, with marble floors and pedestals were vases, plants, and statues rested. Paintings hung on every wall, and the décor looking like something out of a sprawling mansion.

As Balthazar held the door open Dean stepped carefully inside, looking around at the ornate lobby. To the left and rightmost walls doorways branched out further. If he had to guess from what he could see, the left was a dining room of some sort with a stretching oak table, while the right bore white couches and chairs centered around a flat screen television nearly as big as the wall. He edged closer, spying a bar along the back wall and another shut doorway within the living room.

Directly in front of him was a grand staircase, and as he was caught up in further inspecting the details of its ascent to a higher floor, Cas and Balthazar remained at the door.

"Balthazar.." Castiel spoke again. He couldn't avoid it forever. He couldn't just pretend he hadn't committed a grievous sin against the other. "It.. will change nothing." He began, half of his mind thinking of Dean and the leviathans more than the angel before him.

"But I must apologize. What happened.. I.."

"Nonsense, Cas." the blonde sighed. He didn't seem happy about it at all. But the look in his eyes as he stared at his old friend was far from angry. It was pained, with compassion and sorrow heavy in his eyes. He tried to insist it was water under the bridge, but the brunette soldier would have none of it.

"No." He pressed, shaking his head slowly. Even with determination helping him speak, he couldn't meet Balthazar's eyes for more than brief seconds.

"What I did was wrong. I was overcome with pride. I was blinded by it. I will never allow forgiveness for what I did to you." For three powerful seconds the two angels stared at one another in silence.

Dean, who had turned to make sure Cas was alright, stayed by the stairs quietly. Something about the conviction of his angel struck him, and while he didn't want to eavesdrop on their private moment, he found himself unable to look away.

Cas' face was a battleground, scarred with a guilt deeper than anything Dean could fathom. Behind the somewhat neutral expression there were small details, like the tense corners of his lips and the firm curl of his eyebrows in seriousness and frustration.

Castiel was agonized, and Balthazar could see the oceans of pain his mistakes drown him in.

When Cas finally broke the stare, the blonde took a soft moment of silence before sighing lightly and shutting the door.

He didn't say anything right away. There was nothing to say. Cas wouldn't accept forgiveness, and his apology was all Bal needed to move on. He'd made peace with his end quite a bit ago.

"So." He finally spoke as Cas returned to stand by Dean's side before the stairs.

"I need a drink." His once solemn expression broke into another smile as he clapped his hands together and moved into the living room. The angel and the hunter followed quietly, standing in the rich cream and wood-themed living room as Balthazar made a direct line to the bar.

Three glass tumblers were plucked up and set out, with a bottle of richly scented scotch coming to sit beside them.

Eagerly Dean approached, never one to turn down a drink. Certainly not now, when he was hungry and thirsty and sore. Nothing sounded better than a warm burn of a stiff drink in his belly.

"I hate to impose." Castiel spoke sternly as Balthazar cupped ice into each of the glasses.

"But I don't think it wise for Dean to drink on an empty stomach."

All at once the blonde angel looked up as if struck by realization.

"Ah, food, right." He nodded once, then returned to fixing the drinks. "No worries, we can all eat after a round."

Cas didn't argue. It wasn't his place to, and the answer as a whole was acceptable enough. As long as Dean had a warm meal before the alcohol had time to turn his stomach.

When the drinks were ready Cas hesitated, taking his only as an acceptance of his friend's hospitality.

Dean took two-thirds of his glass down all at once, with Balthazar only slightly behind. Cas sipped at the scotch, appreciating the taste but little more. He and Balthazar would need more than a glass to feel an effect. Blue eyes glanced to the wall behind the blonde, coated in shelves of bottles.

Cas doubted even all that could get either one of them more than tipsy.

"Nothing like a drink with friends." Balthazar commented while finishing his glass and setting it on the counter. Having the angel refer to him as such felt like a kick in the stomach to Cas, who stared at his glass in uncomfortable contemplation. He doubted he could finish it. He didn't want to, but it was more a sign of kindness than anything, so he was obligated..

Of course, Dean had his glass gone in seconds, and was returning it to Balthazar quickly before looking around.

He gave a small thanks, inspecting certain lavish elements of the room before turning back and stuffing both hands into his jacket pockets.

"So what's up with this place? Are we seriously still in Purgatory?" Dean eyed the tv suspiciously.

Balthazar laughed merrily, refilling his and Dean's glasses before moving to the center of the room, towards the doorway back to the lobby.

"You are." He stated fondly before taking a sip. "This is the layer of pride. Though most call it the city of decadence." With a small motion he turned to the lobby, Dean and Cas following along.

Cas made sure to finish his glass and leave it behind, while the hunter took his with him.

"Yeah, about that.." Dean spoke unevenly, remembering the see-through bathrooms. Balthazar simply laughed as he lead the way to the dining room.

"People here very much like attention. I don't think you've seen the worst of anything, yet."

Dean looked unsettled as he sat down near the end of the table where Balthazar casually motioned. As the blonde sat at the very end and Castiel moved across from Dean, a door near the back of the hall opened. Out came two women, barely dressed and smiling. The first brought a tray of glasses, the second two pitchers. Water and wine. Dean found a small amusement in it while Castiel remained uncomfortable.

Balthazar, naturally, was as happy as a clam.

As the girls poured drinks and left, he finished his scotch and set the tumbler to the side.

"So I assume you two won't be staying here for long, then?" He asked, looking first to Castiel, then Dean. The hunter gave a quick nod.

"The faster we can get out of here and to Eden, the better." He paused, staring at Balthazar, then lifted both eyebrows high on his face. "Ah-No offense."

The blonde grinned and shook his head. "None taken." He assured casually.

"Actually, I was hoping to hear you say as much."

As he sipped at the crystal glass of water, Dean's face tightened in question.

Balthazar was casually slow, taking a long drink before setting the glass down and getting comfortable.

"Don't look so surprised. Dean Winchester and Castiel show up in Purgatory, what do you think everyone assumes? It would be more shocking if you just rolled over and accepted the situation."

When he smiled, Dean cracked a small grin. Cas just stared at the table, hands in his lap, mind elsewhere.

It brought back too many memories of the apocalypse. Of tearing up the script and throwing it out, and the utter chaos that had come afterward. Free will had been the worst thing to ever happen to Heaven, and most days he felt the same was true for himself.

But of course, neither Dean nor Balthazar noticed as they spoke on, the hunter finally coming to question (tactlessly) why Ruby had been a hideous demonic beast, while Balthazar was very much human.

"Think of where you are, Dean." He explained matter-of-factly as the door again opened and more women came out with aprons and large trays bearing plates of various foods.

"Here, everyone appears however they want to. I could be a busty lady, if I wanted to." He flashed a humored grin at one of the girls setting a plate before him, and she giggled back before turning to leave.

"I was always rather fond of this vessel, so here I chose it for comfort's sake."

Eyes glanced down at the food without great interest. Nutrition wasn't demanded of him. He and Cas both ran on grace, even if dead. And without technical vessels, now they needed even less upkeep.

Dean, however, was beyond elated at the sight of the thickly cut steak laid out in front of him, with thick mashed potatoes, vegetables, and all the various fixings of a hot homemade meal in various bowls and plates all around him.

He needed the smallest of hints from Balthazar that it was fine to eat before digging in and leaving conversation to the angels.

Which, of course, brought Balthazar to slowly cutting his own cut of meat while Castiel stared down at his with minimal interest. He wasn't hungry. If anything, he wanted Dean to have the food in front of him. Be that now, or to just package it for later. After all, they had no promise the next layer would be as fortuitous as this.

"Cas, I can have them bring out something else if you're against steak." Balthazar offered before chewing one piece of the rich meat. Castiel looked up, blinking and shaking his head. He didn't want to seem rude.

"The food is excellent." He stated, but still made no move to touch it. "I just have no need for it, so if it's all the same to you I'd prefer to have this saved for later." _For Dean._ He wanted to say, but kept quiet. Still, the stare he cast the hunter was enough to imply to words. Between the cold water and hot food, Dean barely noticed the look sent his way.

Balthazar only nodded, staring at Cas for a long moment while continuing to cut up his food.

"You know, if you keep going on with that expression your face might get stuck." he teased. Castiel only stared, with his entire body slackened and shamed face downcast.

He didn't laugh, and after a brief quiet Balthazar looked away with a small frown.

Castiel had half a million questions on his mind as his friends ate.

He wanted to know why Balthazar wasn't mad. He wanted to ask why the other was staying here rather than pursuing Eden, and why he and Dean were still here. The sooner he found out their obstacle, the sooner they could go on.

But for the time all was quiet as Dean ate and drank to his heart's content, and Cas took a gentle comfort in knowing the hunter wouldn't go hungry for another day.

In time Balthazar wiped his mouth with a laid out napkin and stood, half his plate picked at with the rest left behind.

"I think I'll go see about getting something fixed up for you two to take along whenever you head on."

He stood, and briefly shared a look with Castiel that answered everything aptly enough.

_We'll talk later. _Was written all over the blonde angel's face as he pushed his chair in and left.

As soon as he was gone Dean tried to ease off the food. He finished the water in front of him and sighed, leaning back in the chair with a small smile of contentment.

He almost asked Cas if he wasn't feeling well, before remembering he had no reason at all to even look at food.

"Hey Cas.." Dean spoke up.

Castiel lifted his gaze from the table, eyes slightly widened in an expectant stare.

Dean thought back to their conversation before Balthazar. To the argument, and how quickly it had vanished when the threat of an intruder had come up. Now, with food on his stomach and the lingering warmth of alcohol in his blood, he felt like an ass.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

"It is not of import, Dean." The angel stated. Dean quirked a small, weak smile at the familiar slip of words. They were incorrect, technically. But something about them was so specifically _Cas_ that the hunter never wanted to correct him. It was stupid, yeah. But the special little line was something he could hear from any other person and it would only ever remind him of the angel.

Still, it _was_ important. The angel had been trying to explain, and with his anger now cooled Dean could be sure Cas hadn't meant the words the way Dean had taken them.

"It matters, Cas." He insisted. "You were trying to explain your whole.." He struggled for the words, giving Cas a small once-over while trying to search for it. "_Thing_ to me." Shoulders shrugged. Dean shook his head. "I didn't get it before. Just.. try again. I'll listen."

Castiel stared at Dean for a long, quiet moment. His face betrayed nothing but neutrality, but internally he was stunned. Dean always had such an effect on him. Every time he assumed he knew the hunter, something like this happened to surprise him and prove that Dean was a human. He grew and changed and learned, and when Cas least expected it he showed signs of becoming such a different, stronger person that sometimes all he could do was watch and silently appreciate the Winchester boy.

"I.." Cas began awkwardly, trying to think of how he had said everything before, and what way he could say it now to be more clear. "Death created Sam's wall to keep the trauma at bay." He reiterated. "My wall was freedom from guilt. Sam's insanity was brought on by the scars from Hell he couldn't escape. When I accepted his damage, it didn't come in the form of Lucifer and fear for me. It came as clarity and distance. I had a sort of.. _freedom_ from the weight of knowing all I had done."

Blue eyes dropped down as Dean stared on, trying to understand.

All he was really getting was that Cas had been insane because Sam's big bag of crazy chased away all the guilt. Which, to Dean, meant he was crazy because he was just fucking crazy, and the nutjob mindset had disconnected him from understanding he had fucked up at all, like some ignorant child.

"Here, in Purgatory.." Cas shifted uncomfortably. "Consider this my _wall_, Dean. I held this entire place inside me, once. When I released the souls, a part of me went with each and every one of them."

He let the words sink in mostly as an excuse to stop talking. It was painful to speak of.

Every face here and writhed around inside him once. Vox, Frïs, and many more. Faces the pair had yet to see, faces Cas hoped they wouldn't, and ones still he wasn't even aware of. They had all been a jumbled, tumbling mass inside his body, souls crawling over one another. Some were angry, some scared, some elated. But all of them had been a part of him once, and now that they were all around him again there was nowhere he could turn without seeing guilt and shame and agony. Because this entire place was his mistake, and he couldn't turn away from it now.

Dean stared.

"So what you're saying is.." He tried to get it. He really did. Cas was fruit loops, Purgatory made him ok, and all of it confused the hell out of Dean. He shook his head, shutting his eyes and wishing for more scotch. Across from him, Cas grimaced. He wished he knew some way to say it..

"When I pulled Sam from Hell, I only retrieved his body." Cas stated.

Dean grimaced bitterly, eyes still shut. He gave a single small nod.

"When I put Purgatory back, it took part of me with it."

Dean nodded again. Images of Cas, consumed by leviathans, flashed behind his eyelids.

"When Sam got his soul back, it was mangled and scarred."

Another nod. Cas was quiet for a time, struggling to continue the comparison Dean would grasp.

"The leviathans.. When I..." The entire room stewed in a thick uneasiness.

"When you found me again, I didn't remember. I didn't know what had happened, what I had done.."

Finally, Dean's eyes opened. There were too many memories back there of Sam suffering from Lucifer hallucinations and Cas' coat washing up on the water's edge.

"When I remembered, I was me again. Because of that guilt.." He hung on the words. Words he'd never wanted to say to Dean. "Knowing what I had done, the guilt and regret, had become a part of me, Dean. When I took on your brother's scars, I healed his mind at the cost of a trade. He recovered, and I was wounded. The guilt became unbearable. In my mind, in that place with Meg.."

Castiel struggled. Dean stared, face drawn in a serious grimace as he listened. He tried to understand. To accept what the other was saying. But he couldn't stop thinking of Castiel's god trip. Of his breaking down Sam's wall. Images of leviathans, Bobby in the hospital, and the insane angel haunted him.

"I was only able to wake up when the damage ran so deep my mind couldn't handle it. I rejected it, Dean. And in escaping from the guilt and shame, I was clear. I saw the honey bees,"

Dean tried not to roll his eyes. He was starting to hate bees. But Cas paused, taking it slow. Trying to show Dean the clarity he'd head.

"I saw the first bee leave the hive. Think of it as a child being born into the world. I watched it go on from one flower to the next. I saw the path it took, and watched as it went along. To anyone else, it would seem like nothing. Just a bee buzzing along. But he moved with such.. _purpose_, Dean."

Blue eyes finally rose, looking up at the hunter with desperation. He wanted Dean to understand so very badly.

"_We_ are bees, Dean. You were born, and you followed this path. You made the choices that took you down this road, following your father and hunting with Sam."

He looked up at Dean, begging with his eyes. Dean's face stayed twisted, struggling to follow while bitterness consumed every other thought in his head. His blood wanted to boil. His mouth wanted to open. His head wanted to understand and his heart ached with every beat that passed with Cas giving him that desperate pleading stare.

"God made it all, Dean. He made the bees, and the hive, and the flowers. He made the path the bees follow, and it was so perfect. The bee didn't need to go out of line. It didn't need to do anything more or less than what God had designed."

He waited. Waited for the recognition. The understanding. Dean shook his head slightly, as if urging Cas to get to the part where it all made sense. The angel's shoulders slumped.

"_You_ are a bee, Dean. _I_ am a bee. We're on our paths, ones God created, and-"

Dean's face brought the angel to stop. The hunter looked furious, staring on ahead with fiery green eyes and a tight jaw. His elbows were on the table, with shoulders tensed and hands curled into fists.

"Cas." Dean growled lowly, trying to contain himself. But the small threads of self-control that had withstood listening to the angel's words were pulled thin.

Resolutely Dean stood, shoving off the table with both palms and turned away. He stalked out without further word, seething.

Castiel didn't say a word. He didn't follow. He just slumped down further in his chair.

Of course Dean didn't understand. Cas berated himself for even opening his mouth.

But quietly, he thanked the hunter. Dean had left rather than fly off the handle. He was trying to do better, and even when lonely and haunted by the giant mistake he was trapped inside, Castiel was proud of Dean for trying so hard to make progress in himself. Even if he didn't realize it.

When Balthazar returned, it was almost too carefully planned, as if he'd heard the whole exchange and waited to come out. Boxes were prepared in the kitchen, stored away for Cas to take whenever they left. As girls had come to clean up the plates, the blonde had sat next to Cas and waited in the quiet to speak. But the angel never said a word, and slowly Balthazar stood, explaining the route up the stairs to an empty bedroom.

When he left to go tell Dean where he could sleep, Castiel stayed behind.

He felt beyond worthless. Beyond lost.

He wanted, more than anything, to go back to that "insanity". He wanted the clarity and freedom. More than anything he wanted the mental numbness that brought him peace even with all he had done.

But someone like him didn't deserve such a thing.

So he sat alone for another long stretch of time, only moving to check on Dean long after the sun had set.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, and Emmaz1098._

_____Also, kudos to Casismyfavorite for guessing who the mystery guest was. Naturally I couldn't do a Pride layer without some Balthazar fun. As a small note, I do encourage people to suggest other characters they'd like to see appear outside just Cas and Dean. Originally there was a strong debate on Gabriel or Balz for this chapter, and Balz won. Hope you guys enjoy =)_


	12. Make It Stop

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Dean/Castiel/Purgatory/Ect.

I affectionately called this the _"shit hits the fan chapter"_ as I was working on it.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Rise Against's _"Make It Stop"_

* * *

Dean had been sulking all day.

When Balthazar came to tell him the room he could get some decent sleep in, the hunter barely said anything outside a grumpy thanks.

In the end the angels both left him alone for some time. Dean used the privacy to inspect the room, from the plush queen-sized bed to the bathroom with a tub so big he thought it was some kind of overly fancy jacuzzi. When it was clear Cas was staying gone for a while, Dean took the time to bathe. The hot water felt ten kinds of wonderful, and when he got out he was free of aches and pains he didn't even know he had.

But it was all bittersweet, as he couldn't stop thinking about Cas. The angel was a giant kid, mucking things up and running from the consequences afterward. All he'd really gotten out of what Cas said was that he wanted to be crazy so he could pretend he hadn't fucked up, and that rubbed Dean's nerves raw.

All in all, by the time Cas carefully stepped into the room Dean was laying down with his boots off and jacket strew across a stationary desk. He had been staring at the ceiling for a while, too pissed off to sleep and not boozed enough to just drop off into thoughtlessness. So he'd spent his time thinking about Cas, and all the things that he was pissed off about. All the things they kept coming close to talking about, only to argue and break away.

When the angel in the trenchcoat walked in Dean looked up, trying not to show on his face how riled and upset he still was. The fact of the matter was, he couldn't let go of the fact that Balthazar was here. Because Cas put him here. It was fucked up, and if the angel was capable of that, who else would he betray?

"Dean." Cas said solemnly as he stood in the open doorway. Dean sat up and stared, but said nothing.

After an awkward moment Cas shifted his weight from foot to foot and advanced into the room a step, shutting the door behind himself.

"We need to talk, Dean." Not that Cas exactly wanted to. But they couldn't progress if they kept fighting. If Dean was mad, Castiel was willing to work things out and apologize.

But again, Dean said nothing. He stared, sighed, and flopped back onto the bed.

"There's nothing to talk about, Cas." He snapped bitterly, trying to chase the angel off. But he wasn't going anywhere, and when Dean said nothing more he came even closer, standing by the hunter's bedside.

"There is, Dean." He urged, staring down with an expression of utmost determination. There was no getting out of it, as much was painfully obvious. Slowly, angrily, Dean sat up and turned his legs over the side of the bed.

"Alright, then what?" He ground out. Castiel continued to stare blandly. For a small moment he seemed almost hurt, but the expression washed away as fast as it came, leaving the hunter irritated and somewhat unsettled.

"You're upset." Cas said. Dean huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I am."

Silence passed between them. The angel waited, but no more was offered.

"What has you upset?"

Dean stared at Cas like he was brain dead.

"Well, for starters, ya killed Balthazar. That's kind of a _big fucking deal,_ Cas." Dean sneered.

Cas stood firm, expressionless and immobile. Dean waited for some defense, but none came.

He waited for any response at all, but after a long moment all that came was,

"You said for starters. What else is wrong?"

Dean's jaw almost dropped.

He wasn't sure if Cas was going crazy again, or if he was just screwing around. But either way, the hunter didn't like it. He shook his head at the angel before taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

"A lot of things, Cas." Was all he managed to growl out before his blood popped and boiled in his veins, threatening to burst out and strangle the angel. Dean's hands curled into fists in the bed cover.

Castiel stared on, waiting. It wasn't a good answer at all. Things were clawing just beneath the hunter's surface. He could practically see them, and he knew he had to drain the venom to make any progress.

Still.. It wasn't going to be enjoyable, and Cas didn't trust himself to not lash back as he pushed one final time.

"A lot of things like what?"

Cas' words were all Dean needed as he rose to his feet, getting in the other's face for the second time that day.

"You killed someone you called a friend, Cas!" Dean shouted at him. Every frustration ripped out of him. Anger at Bobby's death, being separated from Sam, Dick Roman's entire plan to kill humans, Heaven's usual dickery, Cas' insanity, Crowley's threat to kill the angel, and so very much more.

Everything spilled over, onto Cas. Cause in Dean's mind all of it was still his fault.

"I mean, if you're gonna go gank someone you said you fought battles with, imagine how that makes me feel? How the hell can I trust you when you do shit like that? And you never thought to mention that? You spout all this crap about bees and wanting to go back to being crazy cause you didn't feel guilt.. You should feel guilt, Cas! You seriously fucked up! You think you can just go nuts and run away from that?"

Castiel held still. He didn't say a word, or make any change in expression. He just stared as Dean screamed in his face.

"Bobby's dead, Sam's god-knows-where, dealing with I don't even wanna know what! And why? Cause you wanted to be the new God and fuck the world over? Do you have any idea how many people Dick Roman killed cause _you_ let him out?" Dean roared.

He inhaled deep, trying to catch his breath as he looked at Cas.

And then he saw it. Blue eyes were glassy, shining back the light of the room too strongly.

"I'm sorry, Dean." His voice cracked out weakly before the first tears fell.

He cried, with a stern expression like a soldier under fire. He stared straight ahead, at Dean and _through_ him. Arms tensed into fists at his sides, as if his entire body was resisting falling into the crying. The hunter watched, speechless and frozen in place as the first thick drops fell off the angel's chin, tapping against his coat's collar.

"I.." He struggled, voice cracking. "I killed my brothers and sisters. I killed Balthazar, my friend. All because I thought.. It.. It doesn't matter."

Blue eyes slowly shut, and the strong abyss of pain Dean glimpsed in them before they did struck his anger down like a bolt through the heart.

"But I was wrong. I make.. The worst mistake anyone could. I fell farther than anyone, and destroyed more than I think any person has before me. I'm to blame for the deaths of people you love, Dean. And I can't feel worse for it. I can't feel any more guilt than this, or any more regret. It won't undo anything. It won't bring anyone back. But if it could.. I would carry this forever. I _will_ carry it, regardless."

Castiel swallowed thickly, trying to speak through the tears choking him.

"These feelings.. This drowning sense of contrition.. Often I wish I hadn't come back after your fight with Lucifer and Micheal. I feel things would have been better for you that way."

Dean's hands shook, wanting to hold the angel but unable to move. Then the line hit his ears. It sank in, registering fully. And all at once everything was back, eating him alive. Fear and panic fed fury and all at once his hands were in Cas' coat, knotting there and drawing the angel inches away from his face.

"Don't you ever fucking say that." Dean hissed lowly, snarling as Cas' blue eyes opened wide.

"I don't _ever_ want to hear you say _shit_ like that again!" He shouted point-blank at Castiel.

Then the strings snapped. Patience faded.

Castiel snarled back at the hunter, the human, doing this to him. Blaming him and putting him through so much torment. Why? Why wouldn't Dean understand, or try to? Why did he have to fly off the handle at every little thing?

"**NO**, Dean." Castiel shouted with a force in his voice that seemed to silence the universe.

With impossible strength he moved, grabbing Dean's wrists and ripping them free like an adult handling a child in a tantrum.

"I will say what I please!" He shouted, throwing the hunter's wrists down before resuming the hold Dean had held on him. Cas balled both hands into Dean's shirt and half threw him into the nearest wall before pulling, nearly taking Dean off his feet as he shoved him against the plaster and wood.

"I'm sick of you acting like this! Every chance you get, you throw my mistakes into my face! You said I was family to you, as close as Bobby and Sam. Yet when Bobby made a deal with Crowley, you forgave him. When Sam indulged in the blood of demons and freed Lucifer, you forgave him!"

Castiel shook the hunter as he spoke, jerking Dean forward slightly only to slam him back into the wall.

"I rebelled, for you! I fell, for you! And never once did you even ask if I was alright! You never asked about the war in Heaven I had to fight alone! While I handled a civil war you only spoke to me when you _needed_ something! And I was _always_ there! _Always, for you, Dean!_"

Castiel's voice became the only sound Dean knew. He hadn't heard such fury, such tone, in so long. And even then it hadn't been like this. So full of hatred and desperation and pure _pain_.

"And finally, when I am given free will and no one else understands- _When I alone am left without direction for the first time in __**thousands**__ of years_, having to choose between Raphael destroying the world and **you** with it, or trying to make my own decisions for the first time, _**I made a mistake!**_ I chose wrong! And the guilt, and shame, and regret will never leave me, Dean! Never! But you- you don't even care! _You've never cared! I've loved you for years, Dean! _I would give up my life -_and I have_- for you without question! But you can't even ask me if I'm alright, out here on my own! Bobby and Sam and you all depend on one another and I have no one!"

The tears came in hot, blinding waves. Some small part of him worried he was hurting Dean as he slammed the hunter into the wall. But Dean's grip on Cas' hands was firm, showing the sign that even when being jerked like a ragdoll, speechless against the things he didn't know and didn't want to hear, he was alive.

"You throw my one mistake in my face, when I've never once blamed you for the things you have done! _You lied_, saying I was family to you Dean, because you forgive your family! _I've never been anything more than a tool to you!_"

Castiel spun, dragging Dean with him before throwing the hunter into the bed. The frame cracked, and Dean slumped against the wreckage.

"You have no right to question why I didn't come to you when Crowley offered me his deal!" The angel screamed.

And then there was nothing, as Dean lay alone in the shaking silence.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, and Emmaz1098._


	13. Drunk Again

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Dean/Cas/Balthazar/Purgatory/Ect.

Sorry for the tiny chapter update. I got distracted all day with a spn tumblr rp. For anyone interested, look up "Hunt or be Hunted"! I dare you guys to find out which character I play ;D Who knows, if someone does (and messages my account, cause blind guessing is cheating!) you might just _get something special done for you_. Of course, I don't want to be unfair. So I'll probably have more "competitions" in the future for giggles. Love you guys!

****For the record guys, if you want to play, send your guesses to my personal tumblr "fascinatinglyboring", I don't want to confuse the hell out of the other players.**

You've got until chapter 15 to get your guesses in, so act fast! If no one guesses right by then, I'll extend it, and the first person to guess right will be considered the "winner". Though you'll all probably get _something_ nice.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Reel Big Fish's _"Drunk Again"_

* * *

Dean set the empty glass on the table after knocking back the shot.

The drink -he hadn't even listened to Balthazar tell him what it was- burned all the way down, and when he breathed afterwards it seared his nose and throat. But he didn't care. Cause Cas was gone, and pissed, and the only angel left in the house had offered drinks.

The hunter didn't think too much on the fact that this meant Balz had been eavesdropping on the entire furious argument. He didn't want to think on anything really. But that, apparently, hadn't been part of the agreement. Because after his second shot Balthazar pulled the bottle away, watching Dean sway for a moment on the bar stool before leaning heavily on the wooden bar separating the two.

"I really do pity you." The angel sighed, pouring one shot and downing it himself as if to tease the hunter. At least, that's how Dean felt since he knew that whole bottle wouldn't even make Balthazar blink.

"Why's that?" The hunter growled, waiting and staring at his empty glass.

"Because you're an idiot." Balthazar sated matter-of-factly before refilling his own glass. Now Dean _knew_ he was mocking him.

"That angel falls head over heels for you, and you don't even bat an eyelash at him." The blonde knocked back one more shot, then put the cap on the bottle. Dean grimaced.

"And not even because you're not interested, but because you're really that blind."

Dean wanted to protest, but didn't. Arguing with another angel would just put him in more pain, as his throbbing back reminded him.

But when Dean didn't say anything at all, Balthazar gave a weak sigh.

"Since I doubt he'll tell you, it's time somebody finally cleared this mess up."

Dean looked up, eyebrows scrunching together in bitter confusion.

"You're all in a tiff because he made that deal with Crowley and tried to ruin the world. I get it, really. But honestly.." He shook his head. "Even when everything was going to hell and there was a war over your head, Castiel left it all. For you. _Repeatedly_."

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

"He kept jumping down to earth, just to watch you. He never said anything because he thought if he did he'd ruin the happily-ever-after you made for yourself. So he just sat around watching you like a kicked puppy. Then he went back to Hell, of all places, to get Sam so you could be even happier. All while everyone up in Heaven was turning to him for what to do. The only vacation he got was sitting in your front yard watching the man he loves rake leaves, like a lunatic."

Balthazar hastily unscrewed the bottle, poured two shots, and downed his quickly.

Dean waited before taking his, making sure it was indeed for him before tossing it back.

The burn didn't get rid of thoughts of Castiel, perched on his shoulder even as all of Heaven tried to break open.

Again he was haunted by Cas' words, reminding him he'd never even asked the other if he was ok, handling a civil war all by himself.

And then he remembered his words, furious as Cas spoke of his plan for Purgatory.

Of shouting at the other, telling him when Cas had needed him he _was_ there. Of asking the angel where _he_ had been. Dean realized with a wash of shame that Castiel had been right there all along.

Dean downed another shot as Balthazar poured it.

"Yeah, well.." The hunter coughed out of a dry, crisp throat.

"I can't really apologize until he gets his ass back here."

The angel rolled his eyes, poured two final shots, then put the bottle up.

"Yes, like all the other times you've fought I'm sure this time you'll just smile and make it all better."

Sarcastically Balthazar shook his head, then stared down at the man in waiting.

Dean wanted to squirm under the sharp-eyed stare.

"I fucked up, ok? I'm good at that, what do you want?"

"I want you to realize he won't keep bouncing back forever. If you don't get that temper of yours under control one day he's going to leave and not come back." Balthazar shook his head, downed his last shot, and set the glass aside. "You act more like your father every day." He sighed under his breath, but loud enough for Dean to hear.

And when he did, he tensed, staring at the glass in his hand.

He remembered John and Mary's fights. John's drinking. The awful way he raised his kids.

Dean shuddered, grasping at the alcohol with his torn throat like a lifeboat in freezing cold water.

When the glass hit the bar, he coughed and gasped against the ridiculous burn. Whatever the hell that drink was, he got the feeling it was a Purgatory-only special.

When he was done sputtering and dared to look up, Balthazar was still staring with one crooked eyebrow.

"What do _you_ think I should do, then?" Dean asked hoarsely with face drawn up in slight resentment.

The blonde smirked. He had a plan.

A flawless one.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, and Iruchan._


	14. Lights Out

**A/N: **I do not own Supernatural/Castiel/Purgatory/Ect. Vox and Fris, however, are mine.

I'm trying to get more updates out tonight since I have time. But it's like 5 am so my brain is all over the place.

Also, on the note of the "competition" from chapter 13. I got some guesses already, I won't say if anyone got it right yet. But it was pointed out not everyone has a tumblr and I agree. And apologize. Soooo while I still want to drum up some attention for the awesome "Hunt or be Hunted" rp, I'm going to change the rules.

**Just guess a supernatural character you think I'd play and say so in your comment.** Not only will you get your name in my shiny special thanks (cause you are special, you amazing loving people) but you'll get a chance to _wiiin_. Win what? Well, you'll find out. **Everyone who guesses will get something, and the first person to guess right gets a big something.** So c'mon guys, have at me! Also, I may or may not have chapter fifteen up tonight. If I do, I'll extend the deadline. If I don't, you'll have until it's up (most likely tomorrow?) to guess. Of course, knowing me I'll get 15 up tomorrow and say "until chapter 16!" but that just depends.

Anyways, enjoy this mostly Fris-Vox-and-Cas-Centered chapter.

Oh, that reminds me. This chapter's song is more geared towards Vox and Fris and less our lovely boys. Just thought I'd mention that..?

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Breaking Benjamin's _"Lights Out"_

* * *

Claws scratch marble.

A pale, thin face contorts from a grin to a snarl.

Regardless, he still looks flawless.

The man on the glass throne is pristine, with snow white hair cut short and folded back into a delicate personification of handsome. His eyes, a sterling silver, match the light touches of jewelry over his body. His flawless figure, tall and lean but inhumanly strong, is adorned by a white coat, with the only splash of color being a light gray -highly tasteful- button up shirt beneath the suit jacket. His shoes, polished to perfection, are a sleek white dressy number that compliments his suit, setting his as flawless from head to toe.

And before him comes the mongrel.

Black and red, shadowy and formless. Her shape is canine, suiting her attitude and lowly status.

The gatekeeper. The watchdog. Eve's bitch.

"Ahh, Vox. You've come to see me." The man coos in a voice, so supple and perfect. You'd be stupid not to fall in love with it. He grins, charming.

The six-eyed dog blinks once, before sitting. Black claws scrape his beautiful glass floor, transparent and thick, showing a clear cut view down below, where an elegant pool stretches out. Normally women and men swim naked through the waters, vying for his attention. But tonight they are absent as he has company on the way.

Company he doesn't doubt the dog would ruin the taste of if she stayed.

"Whatever do I owe this pleasure to?" He asked smoothly.

Again, she blinked.

"Frïs. We need to talk." She said sternly.

Cas wandered, alone. He saw the city, and it's horrors. He saw the monsters that lurked when the lights faded and the sky became no more than darkness. He saw the people in their beds at night, and the monsters they became.

He saw everything, and it did nothing for his attitude.

He was furious. Reckless. Filled with hate and bitterness and heartbreak.

He had said too much. Done too much. The kiss Dean had forgiven. Forgotten.

But this? Castiel wondered if the look of confusion and half-fear on Dean's face was the last he would ever see of the hunter.

At least he did, until his wandering took him too far and suddenly the world was gone.  
There was no more street beneath him or lurking shadows around him. Briefly, there was nothing.

And then there was a throne. Glass and crystal.

It held rubies and sapphires in it's silver design, with lush white cushions accented with emeralds and opals. All manner of gemstones and metals adorned the large structure, which in it's center held a man.

"Ah, Castiel." The man greeted with a smile. White, like the rest of him.

"Frïs.." The angel confirmed, nodding once. He knew this man. This being. A siren, he'd been. Once upon a time. Last they'd met the man had been no more than a voice, screaming within the angel. One of the loudest, actually.

"Let's not beat around the bush." The man clapped his hands together and stood, walking away from the lavish throne set in the center of the pure glass room. It seemed to stretch for miles in all directions.

Beneath them was water. Behind them, beyond the farthest wall, was a waterfall cascading against the glass.

Castiel didn't look around for more. He kept his eyes locked on the layer's supervisor.

"Your.." He waved a hand in the air. "_Purgatory stint,_ let's call it. Rather bad, wasn't it?"

Castiel stared, immobile. Frïs smiled tightly, trying to remain charming to an otherwise rude angel.

"Well, at any rate, the mess was quite the declaration of pride, I must say." The snowy man gave a brief laugh. Castiel did not join in. He stared straight ahead, unamused and wishing to leave.

Going out on his own had been a bad idea.

"But you overcame it, I see. Got better. Or worse, depending on who you ask."

Frïs shrugged, stopping beside Cas with their shoulders almost touching.

"I called you here because it's time to go." He sighed, as if losing the other was most regrettable.

Cas tensed. Eyes narrowed. He was still furious with Dean. Still hurt. Afraid. Guilty. Shamed.

A myriad of things he couldn't all name.

But.. he was still loyal.

"No." The angel said resolutely.

Frïs walked past him, eyebrows risen and face bored looking to the water, wishing for something appealing to look at other than the angel and his dirty, tacky coat.

"You realize if you decide to stay, you might never move on." He sighed, now bored with his company.

Castiel nodded without hesitation.

"What on earth is their to talk about?" Frïs groaned. "How you're so unappealing you chose to either be a dog or naked? Because I have to say, as awful as both forms are, I agree. I still haven't thought of a single outfit you could look good in."

Vox sighed, though it arrived as a sort of barking cough.

"It is about Dean Winchester and Castiel."

Frïs grinned. He'd been waiting for them to get back the gate. They moved fast, which was.. _surprising_, at the least.

"Yes, yes." He muttered, straightening in his throne. "I heard about them. Most spectacular cases."

When he focused back on the barghest, his grin dropped.

"What do _you_ want concerning it? They're in _my_ layer now. _My rules._"

"I am aware." The black dog groaned. She didn't want to step on any prideful toes, but he made it difficult. "Eve's orders are to let them through when they earn it. I simply came to remind you of this."

Frïs frowned bitterly.

"Don't talk to me like I don't know the rules." He snapped before turning away from her in disgust.

But then something occurred to him. Slowly he turned back, silver eyes gleaming as he grinned.

"Ahh, but it's so rare for you to even bat an eye at someone who gets through. You don't care, do you dear?"

The dog in his floor simply stared at him in dull silence. When he didn't make a move, she shut her eyes almost tiredly.

"As someone who loves mother most," she spoke, causing his disgusted snarl to return, "I am simply making sure her wishes are fulfilled properly. You would do best to do the same, Frïs."

The man snapped out a noise like a human bark. Ironic, considering his guest.

"You're one to talk." He sneered. "You seem to have a bit too much interest in these two. Odd that they got by you so quickly. Perhaps I should tell mother of your.. _fondness_ for them?"

The dog stood. Blinked again. Then, she turned away.

"Castiel is soon to arrive." She said flatly. "Do your job, stone-bearer."

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, and Iruchan._


	15. Sorry

**A/N: **I do not own Castiel/Dean/Balthazar/Purgatory/Supernatural/Ect. Fris and Vox however, are mine._____  
_

Ok, so, the much awaited conclusion! Right? Well.. no, not exactly. No one has guess right yet!

So, I'm keeping the little competition going until Ch. 16 (assuming someone guesses by then). If no one has guessed right, I'll pick one of the people who guessed at random. For those interested in all this, basically I joined a pretty awesome roleplay on tumblr called "Hunt or be Hunted". It's supernatural, of course, and to drum up some attention for it (as we really need members, OC and Canon) I decided if you guys can guess which character on the roster I'm playing, you'll win something!

To guess, just review the chapter and in your comment mention who you think I play. **Everyone who guesses will win something! The first person to guess correctly, however, wins a _big_ something.** And that's it! It's really that simple. I'll even go really easy on you guys and give you a list of the canon characters currently on our roster. That means just by guessing you have a one in four chance of netting the "big prize".

(Also, for those of you who already guessed, you can change your guess by commenting again. But I'll only take your last guess when I see who "wins")

Currently on the HobHrp roster we have: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,& Ed Zeddmore.

_But, aside from all that nonsense, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I woke up today feeling kinda crappy, and reading over your comments made me smile and laugh like an idiot. So thank you guys, you really are what keeps this story going!_

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Buckcherry's _"Sorry"_

* * *

Cas showed up for breakfast.

Which sounds fine, until one realizes that in angel terms it means Dean nearly choked on bacon.

As per usual, the brunette popped in without warning, roughly two inches away from Dean who was sitting next to Balthazar and a serving platter of bacon, eggs, toast, fruits (which went untouched) and pancakes.

With a mouthful of food, Dean hadn't noticed a thing until Castiel had spoke, giving a quiet little

"Good morning, Dean."

All at once the hunter jerked, nearly choking to death. Cas flinched with guilt, directing widened eyes to Balthazar, who shrugged with a thin smile on his face. Dean was fine, more or less, and once he caught his breath and cleared his throat with a swallow of coffee, things settled.

Uneasily. But they settled.

The hunter stared up at his angel nervously, not sure what to expect.

Would Cas tear him a new asshole again? Was he here for an apology? He deserved one, that Dean couldn't argue. Uncomfortably the only human in the room shifted, staring up at the angel in the trench coat expectantly.

They stared at each other, trying to figure out what to do, waiting for the other to make a move.

Once upon a time they could have had entire conversations this way. One stare could convey an entire plan of _'I'll sneak around back; you distract him'_. But now they were hiding too much from each other, staying too far apart.

It was like the days they'd first met, when Cas was no more than a straight-laced soldier sent to make sure Dean kept on Heaven's plan.

Funny, how things ended up.

As soon as Balthazar coughed in the quiet both of the men spoke.

"Listen, Cas, I'm sorry."

"Dean, we need to gather a plan once-"

Castiel stopped. Stared. Blinked.

"What?" He asked, when Dean didn't do anything more than look up at him. He couldn't stand that look of hesitation and fear in the hunter. It was maddening, and while half of him wanted to shake it out of Dean, to spur that anger and courage back, the other half of the angel wanted to curl up in a hole somewhere and die.

But his night had proven one thing clearly. He would not move on without Dean.

And even if the hunter was dim-witted and rude half the time, he was the only friend Cas had.

As far as friends went, he could do better.. Someone less brash, more thoughtful. Someone not so blind to the people around them, maybe a little more tactful.

But no one would be as honest as Dean. No one would charge into battle for all the right reasons time and again no matter what. No one was as strong, or courageous as Dean. Just because the hunter couldn't do calculus didn't mean he wasn't smart. He'd built his own emf radar out of a walkman, once.

Dean Winchester was a broken, beaten man. But in that mortal shell Castiel had rebuilt by hand, there was one of the most beautiful souls the angel had ever seen.

Dean was impulsive, but courageous. Sinful, yet righteous. A walking contradiction made of old leather jackets and freckles and every inch of him, from his beaten up boots to his messy hair, was Castiel's.

Not in any really special way. They weren't married, or dating. Hell, Dean wasn't even interested (as much Castiel reminded himself he needed to accept already). But they had a bone. Undefined, strong, and unbreakable even when the entire world was against it.

Thus, he would never -ever- even when angry, leave the man behind.

Dean was still his charge. Not by order of Heaven, but by order of his heart.

And even if such a thing was something he knew Dean would laugh at, he was just as much aware that it was solid truth. And like all the things Dean had believed in to the brink of disaster, Castiel knew he would hold on to that fact until the day he died.

So it came as a surprise when Dean looked away, face lighting up, before mumbling out, "I'm sorry."

Cas just stood, staring at him. He was shocked, but all that showed up on his face was a blank stare, with blue eyes piercing Dean and making the awkward moment even worse.

Balthazar's cheeky grin from across the table wasn't helping anything.

"I.. keep blaming you for shit and you're right. I got over Sam and-" he choked on the name, "Bobby's mistakes. I guess I.. ..."

He'd thought about it all night in the angel's absence. He'd talked to Balthazar in a drunken haze almost until sunrise, figuring out bits of the angel and himself. And now, it was time to say so. As much Balz had told him, warned him. But that didn't make it any easier.

"I always kind of thought you were perfect, you know?" Dean's head hung down low. Anxiously he bit the inside of his mouth. It had been a long time since he'd felt unworthy to look into the face of an angel. _Just like old times_, indeed.

"So I'm sorry. What happened.. It was your fault, but.. I should have done a lot of shit differently, to. And if I'm gonna keep kicking you over it, I better start doing it to myself, to."

No, no, that wasn't what he meant. He meant he wasn't going to at all, but at this point it sounded like he'd just resigned to blame them both. Internally the hunter groaned.

"Listen, Cas.." Dean dared to glance up. He fought himself for the tiny view of the angel's face, staring at him passively. All Dean could think was that he was waiting, for what he deserved.

Both hands ran through the human's hair, pulling it back as if that alone would make all the bad feelings coiling in his gut go away.

"We've all done shit we regret. If.. If anything fucking up like that makes you _more_ part of the family." He tried to grin, but it was directed at the ground as one sweaty hand came to rub at the back of his neck.

"I just hate it. Cause I know.. I know I could have stopped it if you'd talked to me." He cringed, amending himself quickly with, "If maybe I'd been more open that you could have talked to me. I.. ..When I was with-" He'd sworn to never say their names again. But Cas... He could do it for Cas.

"Lisa and Ben.. I missed you. I just about _died_ on Valentine's Day, seeing all the fuckin' cupids on tv. I kept thinking one day you'd show up and I could take you out for a beer but.."

He shook his head. He was getting off topic.

"Point is, man.. I.. _care_ about you." The words burnt some part of him on the way out. Men didn't say these things, his mind screamed. But he was. So what did that make him? He tried not to think about it.

"I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't believe.. with _Crowley_.. and-"

_And it hurt so much more than Bobby and Sam. I had no idea what to do._

Slowly Dean went over what he'd said to Balthazar last night. The words, which had seemed to perfect and a bit easier to say, caught in his throat.

"You're my best friend, Cas. My _only_ friend. No one else's ever stuck around. So when all that shit went down, I freaked out. I was an ass and I'm sorry. And when you came back as not-you I didn't know what the hell to do. I wanted more _time_, but you and Sammy and.."

Dean shook his head desperately. There were too many feelings. It was too difficult.

He wanted to run away as far as he could. To raid that bar in the living room and wash all this shit away. Maybe a happy tomorrow was waiting for him at the bottom of one of the bottles.

"And I should have said more. Asked more. But you were always _'the angel' _you know? So much better than me and Sam. I never thought you were just as scrambled and fucked up as us. And that's my fucking fault. Not yours."

How many things were actually Cas' fault?

Plenty, realistically. But a lot of the things Dean had put on Cas' plate weren't solely his.

"When you came back with half your marbles, going on about bees.." Dean grit his teeth through the words. "I couldn't take it. Cause Sam goes nuts, I go nuts, and we have to keep on going. Nobody lets us take a break or duck out. And you.. _you_..."

Raggedly, he breathed. He couldn't look at Castiel, or Balthazar, or even his fucking self. Just the floor.

"You weren't yourself. You weren't.. weren't _my_ Cas. And on top of everything else, Bobby and the leviathans and.. _everything_.. I couldn't do it, man. I couldn't stand seeing you like that."

Things stilled into an awkward silence as Dean sat hunched, turned in his chair to face Cas only to have his gaze stuck on the floor. Shoulders slumped, and he prepared himself weakly for the shouting he deserved.

But all that came was a hand. A rough, calloused hand on the side of his face that prodded him into glancing up, half afraid of what he'd find. Glassy green eyes came to stare at that familiar, painfully welcoming face. He fell into those features, human and inhuman all at once.

He stared up, easing as Castiel's gaze softened.

Looking down at him was an angel. There were few other words for it. Cas was benevolent. Kind. Forgiving. He was tired, as much Dean could see in the worn corners of his eyes and chapped lines of his lips. But more than that, stronger than any exhaustion, was the sea opening up behind his eyes.

Cas was beautifully readable again, and all the words Dean could see there, forgiving him, accepting him, telling him it was all behind them now, were too much. The hunter couldn't bear the sight. He shut his eyes, taking in a ragged breath to steady himself before the tears could become anything more than threats.

Lips moved, trying to speak the angel's name. But all that came out was a weak, cracking whisper.

* * *

Breakfast was spent awkwardly. Balthazar had become so oddly quiet Dean had forgotten he was even there. (Though Cas hadn't, as much was evidenced when he turned to the blonde in the silence and rose one eyebrow as if to ask why he was spectating)

When the emotions cooled, eyes dried, and hands removed, the room picked up.

The storm had passed, and in it's wake the sun was shining brightly.

Castiel urged Dean to keep eating, to enjoy food while he could, and Balthazar called for win for him and his old friend while the hunter ate.

"I saw what becomes of these people." Castiel said grimly as breakfast picked up into a strategy meeting, as he'd intended originally upon coming back. Of course, for as much as he meant to plan with Dean, his eyes settled on Balthazar as he spoke.

"When Vox referred to him as one who assigns stones of pride, I never thought.." He shook his head. Balz just grinned meekly and offered a shrug.

"Well it's a lot better than regular rocks." He quirked, and Cas wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

Dean looked up from making a bacon and egg sandwich on toast to question the conversation.

He looked to Cas, and when the angel finally turned to him to catch it, he frowned slightly.

"Frïs, who assigns the stones of pride.." Cas shifted uneasily, glancing away to the streets outside and out of view. "The people we saw on our way in, Dean.. At night, monsters roam. Large creatures, twice the size of you."

Dean nodded, swallowing a mouthful and trying to keep up. "Like Ruby-Sized?"

Cas nodded. "Yes. They're.. Crystals."

"Diamonds." Balthazar interjected. When the two looked up at him, unamused, he shrugged.

"What? The difference is rather key, boys." He took a sip from his glass, but when they continued to stare he set it down with a light sigh.

"Here everyone wants to indulge in pride. You have to show real humility to get through, and even if you do it's up to Frïs to decide if you've atoned enough for.. whatever mess you did out there." He waved, as if Earth was right next door.

"Anyway, when you show pride, he assigns stones. I've heard rumors before he took over it was a bit more literal, but that man as such a need for gaudiness." The blonde angel rolled his eyes dramatically, taking up his glass again.

Castiel withheld a sigh. He was worried about Balthazar to say the least.

"Diamonds start to infest them, Dean." Cas explained after a brief quiet. "First their eyes, then their skin. Eventually.. they turn into full monstrosities. I don't know where they go during the day, but at night they roam the streets. I was nearly spotted by one last night. It.. They all seem to want attention. And anyone who refuses.."

Cas looked away. Dean took the hint.

"Alright, so he's making giant rocks, so what? That won't happen to any of us, right?"

Dean looked between the angels while finishing his breakfast. Cas stared at the hunter, blatantly worried.

"Oh come on." Dean defended. "Well what if we-"

The table banged. Dean's face shut down, resisting the urge to snap at the pain in his leg.

Castiel stared, very much aware that Balthazar had kicked the hunter under the table, but unsure as to why. As he looked between them, Dean groaned and straightened.

"Cas, we're fine. Just for a day." He insisted.

Of course, the angel's face moved immediately into confusion and suspicion.

"I think we've earned a small vacation. And as long as we're careful.." Dean squirmed. "Just one day. Let's.. go out. Get food. Relax."

Castiel rose one eyebrow high. "I don't understand what you're asking Dean."

Which wasn't entirely true. He got the basic idea but.. The way Dean said it..

Awkwardly the hunter glanced off, towards Balthazar.

_This was a stupid fucking plan. _He thought. But the blonde was grinning, staring at the hunter to silently urge him on.

When Dean looked back to Cas, it was with tight shoulders and a small grimace.

This was so, _so_ gay. He hated himself. But, slowly, the words eked out.

"Let's.. _go out_.. Like.. _likeadateorsomething_."

Dean looked sharply away, face flaring red.

Castiel just stared, dropping his glass flatly onto the table.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, Iruchan, Siahposh, and Fool for Dean._


	16. Attention!

Hello everyone.

For those of you looking for a new chapter, this one is purely Author's Notes, sorry. However, I will be announcing the "winners" of my aforementioned game/competition and explaining my lengthy absence. So, if you participated in that, read on.

Otherwise, if you feel none of that pertains to you, this can likely be skipped over.

* * *

**First and foremost I want to apologize.** I won't ramble on details, but a lot of personal things came up and I had to take time away from my computer. This meant fanfic, tumblr, everything. As I was getting slowly back into everything, my laptop died and the warranty company wouldn't replace it.

So now, with my cleaned up desktop, I'm looking to write once more. _Which does indeed mean more Purgatorio chapters._ I'm even going back to rewatch all the Supernatrual DVD box sets I have. (Excluding S2, and the yet-to-be-released S7).

As a result of my absence however I feel my concepts for Dean, Cas, and the other SPN characters is a bit rusty._ Which brings me to the topic of the little game I mentioned in previous chapters.._

* * *

Originally the game was for everyone to try guessing what character I played in a tumblr spn rp group "hunt or be hunted". Given my unexpected absence, I assume they've replaced me by now. (At least I hope they did- as that group was wonderful and literate and needed an active, reliable player which I could not be at the time).

But, to answer to question of who I played, it was Dean Winchester. =)

**This means that the "grand prize" winner is "Slashfilled-mind".**

Those of you who guessed, as promised, also get your own little tokens. The point (for me, at least) of the game was to drum up attention to the rp group for fun and to get a little excitement up for a new project I'd been working on. Of course, it all fell apart upon my leave.

But right now I'd like to try to use it to help me get back into the swing of things.

Simply put, Purgatorio is going to get pretty grim soon. Now I'd love to keep that old SPN spark of humor in it, naturally. But the days ahead for Dean and Cas are bleak, and as a counterbalance (and fun) I'm starting a sort of "fluff/break" story. Essentially, it's:

* * *

**A Q&A panel starring mainly Dean and Cas, with guest appearances from other characters based on questions.**

_(^ This includes OCs like Vox and Fris)_

How it will work is that between Purgatorio chapters I'll gather up any questions/comments left on the_ break story_ and post a chapter in the _break story_ of Dean and Cas (and others) responding to questions and comments.

They will all have the mindset of the current Purgatorio goings on, and it will be treated as if they're talking to you, the readers, while dealing with the mess in Purgatory as the fic progresses.

An easier way to describe it is that if any of you are familiar with "ask blogs" on tumblr, it will be a written form of that.

When new chapters of Purgatorio and the _break story_ (yet to be named) come out, feel free to comment on the break story with questions or comments. I'll work on updating the_ break story_ at least once every other day with Dean and Cas' replies.

* * *

**So you might be asking what the prizes from the game actually are.**

Well, the primary winner "Slashfilled-mind" will get to decide something special for the story. I can't say _when_ it will be used exactly, but basically Slashfilled-mind, **you get to choose a scenario or hurdle for the boys**. It can be anything from a fluffy scene idea, a specific person they see, an event that occurs, anything! Just let me know in a message or comment what you'd like to see in the future, and I'll put it in my plotnotes book. =)

**As for everyone else**, you all get to supply the questions for the first _break story_ chapter! **Just leave comments specifying a question or comment directed at a character, and make sure to be clear what character(s) you're talking to/about.**

Hopefully this will help me get back on track while amusing you guys. The speed of which things will update from here depends on how many comments/questions I get and how fast. Best case scenario- break story launches it's first chapter tonight. If it takes longer to build up question fodder, that's ok.

As far as a new Purgatorio chapter goes.. I can't say. It depends on how fast I can get back into the feel of Dean and Cas and the setting. But, hopefully, you'll see Dean and Cas' special date in Pride's Layer soon!

* * *

And, as always, I do want to make a special note for all you leaving comments and following the story.

It's touching. Seriously. There were times when just reading the comments turned my whole day around. When I got back online and saw all of your encouragement and excitement, I literally teared up.

Thank you all so very much for loving this story. I know it seems silly, but your little gestures of words and praise fill me with a true sense of happiness, and I don't think Purgatorio would be this far along without each and every one of you to power it. I may write this story, but you guys are the real life behind it, and for that I can never say thank you enough.

**I love you all, and I hope to provide many more chapters for you in the future!**


	17. Beautiful Love

**A/N:** _I do not own Castiel/Dean/Balthazar/Purgatory/Supernatural/Ect. Fris and Vox however, are mine._

It's good to be back. Sorry if this chapter feels a little ooc or off, I'm still trying to get back into the swing of writing for these two.

Also, don't forget that you can leave questions and comments for Dean, Cas, or any other Purgatorio characters and they will be answered in-character. I should have the side project in which the characters host a Q&A panel up by tonight, but I'll fit in anything asked or said between now and then. To have your question/comment included just leave a review and be sure to specify that it's for the boys (or other character/s) to respond to.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **The Afters' _"Beautiful Love"_

* * *

"Where.." Cas managed. He wanted to question where in Purgatory Dean planned to go for a date, but the d-word had him tripping up. All that came out was the particle of a beginning as his hands remained awkwardly frozen, holding a glass that had long since fallen from his grip.

Already women from the kitchen were out with rags, cleaning up the mess as Balthazar looked from the hunter to the angel and back. His face was lit with a sharp smile, deeply amused by the scene. However, when neither of the boys said anything the blonde took it upon himself to clap both hands together and let his grin widen, showing off pristine teeth.

"You're not going anywhere like that, boys." His voice chirped, sounding delighted and devilish all at once. The irony set Dean on edge, leaving him to stare at the blonde angel warily rather than assauge Cas' confusion.

"We're not?" Dean eventually grunted, raising one brow in time for the two women cleaning the shattered drink to straighten and turn to Cas.

The coated angel looked from one to the other, just in time for Balthazar to turn on his heel and motion for the group to follow.

"Good heavens, no." He spoke, moving from the main lobby up the stairs.

"Cas looks like an escaped mental patient-" Castiel flinched slightly at the words.

"And Dean, your clothes have so many holes I'm surprised you're not falling out of them."

Both the hunter and his angel lapsed into quiet at the points.

Dean didn't particularly care how he looked. The holes were from bites and slashes and stabs- all part of work, and thus almost trophies. Cas, on the other hand, felt unsettled. Balthazar had no way of knowing, did he? So surely it was just coincidence he hit such a chord..

Yet Castiel wondered if there was more to his brother's smile than it seemed.

It went unanswered however as Balthazar went left at the top of the stairs, motioning for Dean to follow, while the women both took one of Cas' arms in gentle holds, leading him down the right hall.

Nervously the brunette looked back, glancing at Balz and Dean respectively for some promise the situation was safe. Dean looked just as unsure, but Balthazar offered a small nod and wave.

"Don't be so paranoid, Cas." Balthazar smiled. "They'll just be helping you into something more _comfortable_."

Both of Dean's eyebrows shot up as Cas' lowered, seeming confused as the women prodded him farther away. A small shout of protest left the hunter as Balthazar pulled the opposite direction, leading him away from the coated angel and into a guest room.

"What the hell did that mean?" He snapped just as soon as the door shut behind him.

There was a subtle laugh from the blonde before he strode from the door, past the guest bed and to a side closet. It was a double-door walk-in, packed full of colors ad shapes Dean didn't give a rat's ass about. All he cared about was Balthazar, who was pulling various shades of black, grey, and brown from hangers.

"It was just a joke, Dean." The angel sighed airily. "You should know better than anyone Cas doesn't need to undress to change clothes."

As expected, the hunter eased slightly. Though his face stayed soured, summoning up the sharp words, "And why would _I_ know that?" under his breath.

It went ignored as dark jeans were laid out across the bed.

Natrually Balthazar knew what would be going on down the hall. He knew Cas was going to be expected to physically change his own clothing.

But Dean didn't need to know, lest he go charging down the hall to stop whatever terrible event his mind made up given the material.

"This should do." Balthazar eventually announed, nodding to the bed.

Dean stared at the laid out black jeans, thin v-neck green shirt, and heavy dark leather coat. It looked, in all honesty, like the normal clothes he wore. Just.. less old.

Skeptically he looked to the angel, but all he found around him was an empty room.

"I hate it when you guys do that." The hunter snapped before turning back to the bed.

Almost ruefully he moved to strip his current abused coat off, followed by the rest of the stained and ripped clothes on his body.

The usual things stayed. The small details that mattered most, like his pendant from Sam, and the watch on his left wrist. Even if it didn't show anything on the screen but a black LCD. On the right stayed his frayed cord bracelet and silver ring, and all the various cut and scars his hands, arms, amd chest bore.

He wondered briefly as he pulled the thin short-sleeved shirt on what Cas would think of his scars, or if the angel had any of his own. Something about the idea of Castiel with pink and red reminders over his skin was strange to Dean. Impossible, in his mind.

Yanking on the coat on the way to the door, he made it to the top of the stairs before stopping dead in his tracks.

Down the stairs, back turned, was Cas.

Black wings were loosely curled, following the angel's shoulders until they arched in, tappering into long-feathered points that nearly touched the floor.

Dean stared at the sleek figure of beige and black, some part of him happy to notice the beaten hole-filled trenchcoat hadn't been taken away.

Before he could move or speak, the angel turned. And Dean inhaled at the sight.

Beneath the coat was a familiar mix of black and white, with a dark blue tied flipped backwards on the angel's chest.

This was Cas, _his Cas_, just the way he was meant to be.

Dean's face burst into a smile as he trotted down the stairs towards a somewhat unsettled looking Castiel.

"You alright, man?" The hunter asked as he came close to the other's side and stood, staring.

Blue eyes held his gaze for a long moment before dropping away, looking back up the stairs almost nervously.

"I'm.. fine." Cas muttered, unsettled.

Dean's eyes narrowed, curious and suspicious about what went on.

But it was all dropped as he glanced to the door, thinking of the fading hours in the day.

He needed to say something, to prompt them into going.. But what was there to say?

Somehow acknowledging the entire 'date' idea felt wrong. Stupid. Girly.

It wasn't like he didn't want to go, but-

"Should we go then, Dean?" Cas asked quietly.

In the expanse of the large home, the angel sounded like a whisper. Yet the hunter's world was on mute when those lips spoke, and after a nod that conveyed an eagerness he didn't exactly want to express outwardly.

"Yeah." The freckled man grunted, moving straight to the door before pulling it open swiftly.

* * *

Just as they left, Cas glanced back, barely noticing Balthazar at the top of the stairs, watching them go with a lopsided grin.

_Superbia_ was a bistro located far enough from Balthazar's home that Dean didn't feel like the blonde was possibly watching them, but close enough that if something happened (like another visit from Ruby or other _old friends_) they would have reliable cover to aim for.

But more than any strategic location (as that was more for Cas' benefit) the small restaurant was the least flashy place Dean could find in their short walk around the odd city.

The entire time the two had stayed almost shoulder-to-shoulder, looking out at the crowd with silent, nervous stares. Sometimes Dean would give Cas' shoulder a nudge, pointing or nodding towards the most auspicious of the layer dwellers.

All around the people were wearing the sharpest suits, most revealing dresses, or sometimes nothing at all. Those were the ones that had Cas staring at Dean in a desperate attempt to not see what he didn't want to. The hunter in question tended to only look away from the men instantaneously, while women got a half second stare before his eyes averted to other clothed passersby.

When they stopped outside the bistro Cas gave a small sigh at the sleek metal sign hanging over the modern-styled building's front.

"What? No good?" Dean asked, looking from the angel to the store front. The wide bay windows exposed a warm looking restaurant, with white-sheeted tables and waiters in ironed uniforms. The ables were spaced out for privacy, which was another plus on top of the relatively empty seating areas.

"The sign." Cas said lowly, pointing to the imprinted word. _Superbia._

Dean vaugely recognized the latin sound, but if asked couldn't place the meaning.

"It means Pride." Cas explained, nodding to Dean in the soft way he did when speaking informatively. The hunter gave a soft 'ah' in reply, feeling rather dense at the obviousness of it.

"So... What do you think of here?" Dean asked as they stood staring at it a moment longer. He didn't look to Cas, or at the people passing by. He could feel their eyes on him without looking, boring into him and judging his proxmity to the angel at his right.

"If it's to your liking, Dean." Cas spoke, voice almost lost in the afternoon thrum of people around them on the sidewalk.

"Well then." The younger moved forward, shoving the door open sharply and holding it for Cas' entry behind him. Almost immediately a man in a fitted black suit was in front of the two, smiling sharply.

The pair was seated quietly in the back in moments, and by the time menus were laid out and they were left alone, the air was tight with anxiety.

Dean kept looking up at Cas when the angel turned away, and as soon as the hunter scanned the menu or the restaurant the angel looked up, staring at his hunter.

Time passed slowly as they fidgeted around the idea of food. Cas wasn't hungry, and Dean had eaten so much at Balthazar's the concept of food seemed almost nauseating.

They were here as a date idea, not out of any real hunger. This fact dawned on them both as they asked the waiter for more time twice.

After sending him away the second time, Cas glanced up to attempt another quiet stare at Dean.

He was cleaner, with fresh clothes and more color in his skin after human needs had been met. His stress had to be somewhat eased as well, as most of the rigidity in his shoulders was lost.

However, a certain degree of suspicion remained on the Winchester's face as he looked around the restaurant. Slowly Cas let his focus follow Dean's, coming to stop on a couple several tables away, near the windows.

They barely even looked at one another. Most of the time they were looking out the window, or possibly at their reflections, with beaming straight-toothed smiles. Their skin was subtly inhuman. Where Dean's face had soft skin and a certain roundness to his flesh the other pair were stiff, with hard-seeming cheeks and stoney eyes.

Castiel's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, keen details catching his attention. Running up from their necks was a sheen of some sort, almost like frost on glass. The light from outside and in hit the hard surfaces of their faces, reflecting like..

Like diamonds.

Cas looked away, back to Dean. The hunter himself was still staring, looking increasingly disturbed by the silvery rock-like design of the one woman's eyes. Eventually when he pulled his gaze away he came to face Cas.

Castiel, with soft human skin and the slight growings of stubble across his chin. With blue not-quite-human eyes that were reassuring in their bright hue, and towering black wings still curled to his back, relaxed but hugging like a bird's folded feathers.

Dean stared just long enough to be considered awkward before being the one to break the silent staring match.

"Hey, what do you say we get out of here?"

Cas blinked, wondering if he'd done something wrong. He was under the impression restaurants were for eating, and one didn't leave until that task was complete.

But Dean was already standing, straightening his jacket. By the time he looked to Cas, the angel was on his feet. As diligently ready to follow as ever.

Dean lead the way out, slipping by the server with the excuse of _"Not hungry after all"_.

Once outside, his head swiveled left and right repeatedly. Without warning Dean went left brisquely, correctly assuming Cas was swiftly in toe.

Down two blocks he slowed down, walking without purpose until stopping at an intersection.

No cars went by. Just people, chattering and laughing all around him. The more he saw, the more he didn't want to see.

People boasted crystalline skin, eyes, and even hair. The worse cases seemed almost to be sculpted out of diamond, while others only had the refracting rocks growing seemingly out of them, covering their skin as if birthed from their bones.

Out of all the demons and monsters Dean had seen, something about the diamonds threatened to bother him even more. Most likely, he reasoned as he looked to Cas, it was because they were human. Or at least looked like it. And as shiny as it was, the crystals were no better than a fancy cancer.

At least Cas' face was safe, clean, and familiar.

"The people bother you." Cas stated after staring the hunter for a brief moment. Dean nodded.

"I assume the more they embrace their pride and indulge in this place, the more it grows."

_It_ being the crystal cancer.

"Until in time.. They become what I saw last night."

Dean looked away to hide the slight wince of his eyes.

Last night. Their fight. Cas' outburst, and storm off.

All of a sudden Dean was walking again, striding down the black stone sidewalk as if with some intent purpose.

Castiel stayed close, mirroring each step with tight shoulders and tighter wings. Passersby stared at the limbs, some whispering with grins while others looked shades of encious. All of it left the angel feeling uncomfortable, until in time he was so close to Dean he worried he would run into the hunter should he stop abruptly.

Lo and behold, Dean did.

He slammed on the brakes as the buildings thinned out into colored glass monoliths with no doors or windows. Cas had forewarning in Dean's posture, but still wound up brushing against the hunter, one hand pressing to Dean's shoulder to keep from flatly bowling him over. Wings shivered against the sudden stop, flapping forward softly before recollecting against his back.

Dean turned as soon as Cas was withdrawing, and briefly the two shared a flustered look.

They looked across the tight air as if to ask 'what do we do now?'. But neither had an answer, so in the end Dean just faced away, jerking his chin to the rising slope of a hill in the far distance.

"Where do you think it goes?" He asked, voice gruff. As if a change of his tone would make him manlier.

As if he even needed to _be_ manlier.

"There's no telling how vast this layer is." The angel spoke factually. "It could go on endlessly, or lead to another city.." Dean was already moving forward. Castiel hesitated, glancing up at the sky. The fake sun was wanning, following them forward through the sky. It would set soon, giving way to night and diamond sentinels.

But he wasn't afraid as he sighed and followed Dean Winchester.

He knew if anything happened, his grace assured their escape. All he felt was confusion. Anxiety.

And, honestly.. a small pinch of disappointment.

The idea of a date with Dean had, admittedly, gotten his hopes up. But so far all they'd done was walk around, exploring a glass city of prideful souls while Dean continued to run from Cas. From himself. From everything.

Though he didn't seem to notice it, Cas did, and the somber realization had him silently following the hunter with hands loose at his sides.

* * *

In time, Castiel came to find he was wrong on both accounts.

Dean wasn't running, not from him at least. And the world was not indefinite.

When the pair stopped it was at the edge of the world.

Dean was first to approach the rocky cliff, staring out over the emptiness with hands in the pockets of his jeans. He had walked until the people were all gone, in which tense shoulders and eased and Cas realized the hunter wasn't walking to avoid sitting down with the angel and his own feelings, but to escape the people. This place, swallowed by hubris and glamour, bothered the Winchester boy.

But here, surrounded by no more than plain dirt and an open sky, had him stopping.

It was here, far past where the stone sidewalks turned to dusty earth, that Dean moved to sit, tossing his legs precariously over the side of the ledge.

Castiel watched, half afraid for the hunter, before stepping closer.

If Dean fell, Castiel would catch him. The angel held onto that fact for security as he joined the other in sitting, relaxing.

It was when the sun dipped past their heads, out into the distance, that Dean spoke.

"Listen man, I'm sorry." He sighed, looking out at the unnerving view. As far as the eye could see there was open sky. No ground anywhere beneath their feet, no far off distance to pine after, and no crystal people and homes anywhere in sight.

There was just the sun, dipping far out in the sky behind clouds and what, if Castiel had to guess, was the beginnings of the edge of the world. For a time he tried tot hink of what to say, but the moment was briefly spent before Dean went on.

"But this is a two way street." The hunter looked down at his lap before nodding slowly to himself. Summing up some inner comfort or motivation, he managed to shift and clap one hand onto Cas' shoulder.

"Neither one of us is perfect, and neither one of us gets all the blame."

Castiel was shocked into silence. Dean was a prime example of the beauty of humans. As soon as you had them figured out, they would surprise you. The quiet glory of it all had him staring, taking in the warmed freckles and green eyes glittering with the sun's reflection.

"From here on out," Dean paused, looking down and swallowing. Cas' eyes narrowed, trying to understand the spiking nervousness of the other.

"Let's try to put the past to rest and move on." As if to silently explain the unspoken question Dean moved again, withdrawing from Cas' shoulder only to edge his hand to the ground, resting atop the angel's. He didn't say anything to acknowledge it, and he didn't look at what exactly his worn hand was finding purchase in.

He just looked out at the diming sun with a soft stare.

For a long, long while neither of them said a word.

They enjoyed the peace, the safety, and the company.

When Castiel did in time speak it was gingerly, apologizing for his mistakes. Ones that, even if he felt had reasons, were wrong regardless. And, surprising him yet again, Dean did the same.

They traded and laughed nervously far into and after the sunset, until finally there was nothing left to apologize for. There were no more mistakes to name and no more motivations to list.

They said what they had to, and what they wanted to, and then did just as Dean had suggested.

They buried the hatchet and stared out at the last hours of sun, promising to let the past die out with the burning rays.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, Iruchan, Siahposh, Fool for Dean, Slashfilled-mind, rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT, Canonbury, Raven Kayleon, JoRinoaValentine, XxStacefacexX, destielship101, Sunkissed Lavender, Ero-Chibi-Chan, summertimeinla, Ceruleaneyes137, Guest, TTCyclone, and MircaleWhipped._

_____Don't forget Slashfilled-mind, to claim that big prize I talked about in "Attention!" (Ch. 16)_


	18. Shot in the Dark

**A/N: **_I do not own Castiel/Dean/Balthazar/Purgatory/Supernatural/Ect. Fris and Vox however, are mine._

There have been some suggestions floating around that instead of an updated mini-fic, I make an Ask Blog featuring Dean and Cas from this story specifically. I'm not sure how much traffic it would get, or if you guys on ff would prefer a story here or a blog there? **Let me know, cause what you prefer is what I'll go with.** I'm holding off on getting it up and running until I get some more questions, and decide on a blog vs mini-fic.

Don't forget that you can leave questions and comments for Dean, Cas, or any other Purgatorio characters and they will be answered in-character. To have your question/comment included just leave a review and be sure to specify that it's for the boys (or other character/s) to respond to.

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Within Temptation's _"Shot in the Dark"_

* * *

_I have done all I have for you, Dean._

_Since the moment we met. Since the moment you whispered rebellion into my heart, I have been yours._

Castiel pulled the beaten trenchcoat from his shoulders and laid it out across the empty bed. He wouldn't need it where he was going, now.

_From the moment I pulled you from Hell, I have known your soul entirely._

_We stopped the apocalypse together. We defied Raphael, Lucifer, even God together._

_I will not let these lowly beasts have you._

Armor, sleek and silver, was pulled on by rough hands.

Buckles were fastened as sheets of chain hung heavy beneath the thick plates guarding his torso.

_I will not fail you, Dean Winchester._

_No Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory can stop me from saving you._

* * *

When the sun cast shadows of the edge of the world back onto Dean and Cas' legs, the two agreed it was time to go. The path back to town was going to be practically unending, and with the heat of the sun fading and reminding Dean's bones of the chill of Purgatory, Castiel was eager to return to the safety of Balthazar's haven.

"I can just-" Castiel offered, laying one hand on Dean's shoulder. It was chilled now that their joined hold had been broken, and the warmth of the other man was pleasant.

However, Dean shrugged away from it in a snap, knowing how the angel tended to act first and talk second. Thus the hunter pulled away, ignoring the pang of guilt from so harshly avoiding the other before stopping on the glass sidewalk leading into the city and smiling awkwardly.

"Nah, Cas." Dean said casually, shrugging one shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

Balthazar's words, his warning of Cas' limited grace, echoed in Dean's head.

"How hard can it be to avoid some giant wedding rings anyways?" He laughed.

Cas' lips twitched at one corner, infinitely amused by the hunter's cavalier attitude.

Retracting his hand slowly, Castiel turned back to the path unfolding into darkness and moved forward in stride. Dean followed, shoulder-to-shoulder with the angel.

Carefully green eyes glanced down, surveying the other man's empty hand hanging at his side. Lips pursed as Dean glanced between Cas' hand and his own feet.

By the time the glass city was opening up around them with quiet darkened buildings, Dean had swallowed the last inch of pride in the pit of his stomach. No one was around to see but.. but screw it! Even if they were, he wasn't ashamed.

He moved an inch closer, letting his calloused hand wrap around Castiel's firmly.

The angel seemed to flinch, but when he turned almost questioningly to the other, the hunter was looking in the exact opposite direction.

A small smile graced Cas' lips.

* * *

They were barely two blocks from Balthazar's house when the first one crossed their path.

Up until then, they'd all been avoided. A surprisingly skilled task, given their size.

The crystal behemoths were massive, ranging upwards of fifteen feet tall. Their bodies, humanoid only in torso pattern with arms, legs, and spiked heads, were semi-transparent spires of jutting crystal. The moonlight bounced off their fake skin, glittering around inside them as if to give the illusion of some heart, or other organ resembling natural life.

The things were fake. Inhuman. Shattered remains of the hidden creatures that had once thrived in the layer sinfully. To make it all the worse, they tromped through the glass city, creaking and groaning and looking. Always looking.

Stragglers were rare. New comers of the layer, and foolish ones. Castiel had only seen one on his furious night out without Dean before, and he had only bared passing witness.

The creatures stopped. Stared, despite no visible eyes.

And then, they screamed. Screexhing wailing tones that cut up the air into chaos and fear. Inside the homes the cries were mute, but in the open air.. Their pleads to be worshipped, stared at, praised for their beauty brought a chill that went deeper than any icy air.

When Dean saw them, disgust was a mild word to dawn on his face. He was rattled to his core, mind rejecting the knowledge that the crystal dust growing on the people of the city turned to such massive, monsterous things. What was worse was the realization that came upon him as he and Cas weaved through buildings and streets to avoid the monsters' gazes.

Like that.. there was no redemption. There was no climbing the layers or hope of being free. There was only wandering and wailing wallowing in their pride for eternity.

The hunter grimaced darkly as he pressed his back into the corner of a closed store. Cas was right behind him, dutiful as always, and the pair were nearly home.

That was when it screamed.

The sound shook the pane of glass behind Cas, piercing it's way through the two men's skulls and bringing Dean to his knees. It was nearly as bad as the angel's voice had been, though it's inhuman screech was far shorter.

When the sound gave the two a brief relief Cas was reaching for Dean, ready to take them somewhere safe. But this particular beast on that particular night would have none of it.

It screamed again, words only the angel understood.

_"Look at me!"_ it bellowed, stomping through the streets so fast and pounding that the ground shook, bringing the angel to hands and knees just arms reach from his ally.

"Dean!" Castiel shouted, raising himself as the beast's voice paused. But as soon as he gained feeble balance, more came. A second, from behind them. The first, barreling down a northern street, seemed alarmed. Ferverent, unlike what the angel had witnessed in any of the others.

Dean himself was sprawled on his side, so shaken between it's footsteps and voice that his only defense was slammed shut eyes and two hands clasped against his ears.

_"Love me!" _A third screeched from farther off.

What was going on? Even before Castiel hadn't seem them swarm anyone. They operated on single-form mentality, not a hive mind.

And then, with the sound of sharp laughter, it became clear.

"_Cas-ti-el._" Frïs chimed merrily as he strode around the corner.

Tonight was a night spent in a white trenchcoat, fallen down his arms halfway to expose a fited white vest and sliver dress shirt beneath that. White suit pants bled into white dress shoes, which glided over the glass ground to stand before Dean and the angel farther behind him.

"Time to go, friend." The siren said with a soft smile.

Dean jerked to his knees, then feet, in a flash. Castiel tried to call out some words of halt, but before he could the crstalline beasts all wailed and shrieked and shouted, bringing the hunter down into a pool of agony at Frïs' feet.

The siren cast a disgusted stare down at the other, letting a soft tsk out under his breath.

Then, regaining his false smile, the man moved away, around Dean and closer to Castiel.

"Come on." He beckoned, moving his head gently to the side, as if some magical doorway leading to wherever he wanted Cas to go was just a step away.

The angel tensed, wings drawing in tight enough to spark a dull ache through the coiled muscles of his back. The twitched, tensed enough to shiver, and Frïs' grin grew.

"No need to be scared." He laughed, just as Dean rose behind him, arm jerking high with ebony knife raised.

In an instant the blade came down and Dean's head cracked into the sleek wall of the building to Castiel's left.

Frïs was still smiling, with one hand around the hunter's face, crushing it against the building while the other twirled the stolen blade.

"I.." Castiel said lowly, shakily raising to his feet while expecting at any moment the wails of the beasts to stop him. When it did not arrive, and the monsters instead stayed looming around them, waiting, he came to stand fully.

Wings still stayed tight against his body, twitching and rustling as he stared into Frïs' silver eyes. The siren's hold on Dean was tight. Merciless. Strong enough to keep the hunter pinned, unable to do any more than squirm. Castiel could barely look at the other in such a position without heat coiling in his stomach and wings shaking into full spasms.

"I am not afraid of you." The angel clarified, before one arm jerked out, grabbing the siren's head.

Light burst from his palm, feeding off the fury in his gut and filling the night with sun.

But it was too slow, too late.

Frïs was gone. Dean was gone. The beasts remained.

The fury swelled and doubled, making him half sick as he glared at the encroaching monsters.

Castiel was sick of fighting. He was sick of the constant struggle, just to be happy.

More than anything, he was sick of always losing Dean.

A scream was bubbling it's way up his throat, buring every inch acridly as it did.

Just before his jaw allow it passage to free air, arms came around him.

A tight, almost comforting hold wrapped around the angel.  
Arms Castiel hadn't realized were widely outstretched dropped, returning to his sides to grasp the ones around him.

"No, Castiel!" Balthazar shouted behind him, pulling him backwards as one crstyal behemoth came close enough to slam it's gnarled fist into the ground. The sound of glass shattering swallowed the two, sending both angels backwards.

Yet anger was a swift motivation, and in seconds Castiel was on his feet, fingers splaying wide and filling the absence of Dean's hand with the burning of holy power.

But Balthazar was there again, grasping him tight.

"No, Cas!" He chastised again, before the world snapped away from scenes of splayed glass and screaming monstrosities.

* * *

All at once, they were in the peace and quiet of home.

Balthazar's lavish sanctuary spilled out on all sides, dead silent but for the panting of the blonde angel.

"Why-"Cas started, angry, but as soon as he turned to face the other, it dimmed.

Balthazar had both hands on his knees, bent over and leaning against the couch in his living room. As he caught his breath, the light refracted off of a small growing wave of diamond dust crawling up the back of his neck.

Castiel watched as Balthazar stood, effectively hiding the secret behind the collar of his suit jacket.

"Just like old times, eh?" He laughed airily, still gathering himself from the adrenaline-fuled moment of grabbing his brother and, as Dean would call it, "angel-ing him away" to the older's home.

Castiel was not amused or warmed by the comment. His face was tensed into an expression of silent lecture and concern, and Balthazar only needed a tight second before rolling his shoulders and eyes back in unison.

"Oh come on Cas, don't give me that face." He sighed, patting the other's shoulder.

As much as he wanted to hold onto some form of pertinence, it faded when reality caught up with him.

Despite what Balthazar said, this was not some old time of them fighting side by side for Heaven.

He was Castiel, the almost-God and traitor of Heaven. And Balthazar.. was dead. Because of him.

The weight followed the knowledge of his past and suddenly the angel weight a thousand pounds.

Shoulders eased from his righteous fury into a half-slumping silence.

"We need to get Dean back." He grunted, looking to the floor. Balthazar said nothing, and refused to lift a finger to help as Cas' mind raced with plans.

"Cas." The blonde gently chidded. When the younger angel looked up, Balthazar shook his head.

"You can't even look at me anymore." He noted with a somber stare. Castiel, right on cue, stared at him a single second longer before looking away, first to his feet then the bar across the room.

"You are still my brother, you know." He reminded the coated friend.

Castiel only shook his head. "But I-"

But Balthazar just crossed his arms, cutting the other off with a sharp sigh.

"I know. I haven't forgotten." The room dipped into silence. "But holding a grudge won't do anything. I've long since accepted what you did."

He didn't say it, but he understood. It was hard not to understand, when he had gone swimming around in Castiel first had, seeing all his reasons from the inside out. At least, until the angel had released Purgatory's collection of souls and sent them all back, leading to the current awkward moment.

"How can you.." Castiel spoke, eyes downcast. "I.. I'm sorry." He came to whisper. There would be no hope in arguing it. All that was left were apologies. As always. But, much like Dean, Balthazar wasn't interested in his honeybee sorrows.

"You seem to apologize an awful lot now, my friend." Balthazar almost laughed while turning away, striding back into the ornate lobby. Castiel looked up, watching with confusion before following some silent sign of the blonde's.

Balthazar was all smiles, talking softly and leading the way to the dining room.

"Sometimes words mean nothing. All you can do to atone is to act. Do something -everything- in a manner that proves you aren't that person anymore."

When they came to stop, the dining table was set. Though not with plates.

With armor. Thick silver chestplates and arm guards the coated angel knew well. It was the armor of Heaven, used long ago when they had last donned any protection in the war against Lucifer and his demons. How very long had it been since he and Balthazar had fitted their vessels in such heavy things and fought together?

Gingerly Castiel reached out, tracing fingertips over the ancient but loved plates inscribed in holy runes. The symbols spoke of a long ago past where things were much, much simpler.

"Can I trust you?" Balthazar asked softly. Castiel didn't need and explination. He knew as he picked the chest plate up what the other was asking. It seemed the old days were soon to be new, and dusty memories were about to be restored in the present.

The dark haired angel set the armor down and looked to Balthazar.

Castiel the soldier, the ally, the friend, nodded with firm resolution coursing through his veins.

* * *

"Is there any real reason for this?" Castiel asked while donning the cherished armor. Besides sentimentality, he couldn't imagine why Balthazar would want it.

With a grin, the blonde clapped one gauntlet-shielded hand against Cas' back, between unarmored wings.

"Frïs can't stand anything old- especially clothes." Balthazar laughed, and for once Castiel couldn't stop from cracking a wide grin at someone other than Dean. His shoulders rustled with a light laughter, despite the dark future ahead of them,

"Also, I don't know of anything that can pierce those nasty golemns of his." Bal spoke as he moved away, plucking a sheathed sword up from further down the table and strapping it around his waist.

"So I don't think it a bad idea to give these bodies of ours a bit more protection."

Castiel nodded.

The two spent the rest of their time in silence, strapping down swords and final buckles until all was complete. To humans, the process was droll and slow. Yet to the swift hand of angels..

The pair moved to the door in unison, Castiel's mind filled with worry of what the past sparse minutes meant for Dean in Frïs' grasp. Surely he was alive, he had little doubt.. but in what condition..

Firmly, Balthazar gripped Castiel's shoulder.

He didn't speak. He didn't do anything more than smile, and that alone told Cas all he needed.

Filled with conviction and the warmth of an old friendship returned, the two waged war with Pride.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, Iruchan, Siahposh, Fool for Dean, Slashfilled-mind, rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT, Canonbury, Raven Kayleon, JoRinoaValentine, XxStacefacexX, destielship101, Sunkissed Lavender, Ero-Chibi-Chan, summertimeinla, Ceruleaneyes137, Guest, TTCyclone, and MircaleWhipped._


	19. The Last Fight

**A/N: **_I do not own Castiel/Dean/Sam/Charlie/Balthazar/Purgatory/Supernatural/Ect. Fris and Vox however, are mine._

A bit of a longer chapter than normal. After this there's only one chapter of the Pride Layer left! Also, it had been ultimately decided that rather than a mini-fic, an askblog is in order. So I'll be working to set that up on tumblr after getting this chapter out. I'll link it to you guys in the next chapter, but if you want a possibly faster preview of it, go stalk my tumblr "FascinatinglyBoring".

**Chapter Soundtrack: **Bullet for my Valentine's_ "The Last Fight"_

* * *

It could have been worse.

A dislocated shoulder, minor concussion, and some scrapes was a damn good deal considering it was Sam Winchester's price for managing not only to set Dick Roman's main plant up in flames, killing hundreds of levis, but getting away from it all with the miraculously still-functioning impala.

That had been weeks ago, but felt like years, and since then Sam had been laying low and digging into every possible opening looking for heads or tails of Kevin, Meg, Dean, Cas, or anything at all.

Anything to give him some direction. Something more than Crowley's sour goodbye before leaving him utterly, impossibly alone.

Leviathans weren't all gone, but like a burnt anthill they were scattering all over the country (likely the world) killing and panicking. They had no leader, and no one was stepping up to the plate. Yet.

But Sam was ready, hoarding borax like a nutjob while hiding out in a distant home Charlie had swung his way.

It was abandoned recently, not run down enough to be some drug dealer's squatting den. But the scent of blood still hung in the air from the family that had been devoured. The levis that had stolen their faces were gone, heads cleaved and bloked in cement that now rested at the bottom of a lake a short drive outside town.

It would be a very short matter of time before a landlord or property owner came by to clean and turn over the house. Possibly a week, at best. But for now Sam was relaxing with electricity, internet, and running water for the first time in a while.

Charlie had offered to put him up, but between her urge to stay uninvolved (despite helping him once already) and her concern over an old friend that hadn't been online in a while, he'd wound up here.

As bad as it was, he was only partially upset at the fact the hacker's friend and parents were gone.

He had bigger things on his mind. Things like a kidnapped prophet and his missing brother.

Thing weren't easy without Dean. Without Cas. Without.. anyone.

Sam had tried to hold it together at first. He'd stuck to the plan, hopping around with fake names and crappy cars, killing levis and staying focused on finding some answers. But eventually resources ran dry. No hunter that would talk to him knew anything, and the internet was empty.

So he had prayed. Sam Winchester had begged, cried, screamed at Heaven for anything. Any answer, even if it wasn't something he wanted to hear. But all that had ever came on nights he prayed himself hoarse was silence.

So he had stopped praying. He'd just barreled on, filled with thoughts of demons, angels, and Dean.

After the first two weeks, he'd tried to talk to Bobby. To Cas. To Dean.

But they were somewhere out of his reach, far away. The worlds they were in were distant, leaving him awake and alone. For the first time in a long, long while.. Before he'd always had at least Bobby, or Ruby.. But now..

Sam leaned back in the dining room chair, sighing heavily. What the hell was he supposed to do?

He'd looked into opening Purgatory, but the only way it could be done.. Wasn't an option. With no way to get in.. was there a way to get out?

There had to be.. Had to be...

"It's me again." Sam whispered into the stale air. There was no use to this. No one ever replied..

Yet he was desperate enough to try again. And maybe, deep down, he just liked feeling like there was someone to talk to.

"Listen I.. I don't know what you want me to do." Hadn't God abandoned Heaven? Abandoned man? What was the point of talking to an absent father? It had never worked with John..

"I know we haven't exactly always been on good terms.." He breathed a sarcastic laugh, practically able to feel the demon blood running through him. "But.."

Frantic eyes looked around the room. What was there to say, that he hadn't already said?

"Sam Winchester?" _"I just wanna know that he's safe."_

Sam jumped out of his skin, spilling his chair to the floor in one fluid motion and gripping the familiar handle of the deon-killing blade. By the time it was pulled into a full hold and he had turned, what greeted him was no demon.

"Inias." Sam breathed, startled but easing at the sight of the angel. Last he'd seen the other, he'd been pleasantly asking Castiel to come along in escorting Kevin away.

"You're alive." The younger Winchester stated, realizing that since Kevin was (presumably) with Crowley, he had assumed the angel to be dead.

Inias offered a sweet smile, nodding once as if to affirm the obvious remark.

"Sam, it's good to see you again." He spoke warmly. "Though I'm sorry it's under these conditions."

Immediately, Sam was both fearful and elated. Finally, a purpose. But what..?

Answering the human's tensely confused stare, the angel's smile faltered.

"Sam Winchester. I know this it too much to ask. But Heaven needs you."

* * *

"Dean, I'm serious." John Wincester's voice is the only sound in the world.

The man is holding a fishing pole loosely in hand, mirroring his sons' lax position in a chair at the end of the pier. The two are staring out at the pre-dawn lake, watching calm waters for signs of bites.

Dean is smiling to himself, facing away from his father with a hint of heat at his face.

"You're one of the best hunters I've ever seen. Myself included." John repeated, firmly serious.

Dean's smile widens as he glances back, shaking his head softly. When John looks at him with a stern expression, Dean shifts in his chair.

"Seriously?" He asks, and suddenly he feels like he's eight years old next to his father, hanging on the man's every word. John chooses then to smile, and nod. "I mean it." He says.

They share a long smiling stare before the older reached down to a cooler between them and pulls up a beer. Once they both grasped the dark brews in hand, the water stirred.

It darkened and bubbled, churning almost with something evil. Dean straightened up, looking on as something flashed just below the surface. A shade of beige waved, threatening to raise to the surface.

Yet just before it did, the colors faded and swirled. The quiet of the morning was replaced with hard, low bass and erotic tones Dean recognized as the familiar thrums of a strip club's playlist.

His face broke into another smile as two girls came down the catwalk. A nurse and a police officer.

Fine choices. Dean laughed to himself as they rode around the pole, buttons popping free and heels coming undone. Clothes were abandoned in a trail leading straight to the hunter's place in front of the scene. As the first girl dipped down, a sheet of blonde hair dusting Dean's shoulder, words echoed beneath the music.

_Love me, Dean._

_Take me, Dean._

_You're the best, Dean._

_I only want you, Dean._

_No one's better than you, Dean._

But something was itching. Scratching. Clawing at the back of his mind.

The second girl, brunette, had cropped short hair and a meek smile. Her eyes were a piercing blue and as he stared at her, somewhat oblivious to the blonde steadily trailing kisses down his throat and lower, it all clicked.

"Cas?" Dean whispered.

In that instant the girls were gone. His heart ached for the blue eyes to return, but there was no hope of it. He was standing in the center of the dark, waiting. Wishing.

"Dean." A voice beckoned. He turned, and the girls were back.

A blonde, and a red head.

Something about the ginger disappointed him, but he couldn't place it. Like trying to remember an old dream..

"Don't you like me, Dean?" She cooed from her place in the floor, arching her back in such a way as to press her chest in a curve against his leg.

"Oh, baby, how could I not?" He said darkly, grinning as the blonde's kisses dotted up his next, playing against the back of his ear.

"Even though I'm a girl?" She pouted, looking up at him with pleading green eyes.

"Of course." He affirmed, leaning back as her hands slid up, playing teasingly with the button of his jeans.

Words and songs blended in the back of his mind. The darkness swarmed between the strip club and the pier. Between the girls and his father. Between their voices and John's.

"You're gonna settle down with a nice woman one day, aren't you Dean?" John asked.

Dean blinked, then nodded. "Course." He said, though the likelihood of such a thing..

"You'd never let someone who hurt your family go, would you?"

"What? No, never."

John looked grim. Images flashed. Cas, killing Bobby.

Cas, "God", killing thousands that went against his reign.

But Dean had stopped him. Dean, the best hunter in the world, had brought peace to Earth.

"Lisa's waiting for you, Dean." John reminded him.

All at once he was home. His home, that he'd known for years.

Ben was in the kitchen, pouring over his homework while Lisa stayed at the stove poking at something burnt.

"Let's just order in.." She sighed, irritated that the new recipie had failed. When she turned, finding Dean in arm's reach, her smile bloomed.

"How does that sound?" She asked, wrapping both arms around him. Dean smiled, doing the same.

_You're the best Dean._

_I love only you, Dean._

_No hunter could beat you, Dean._

_I'm so glad you came back, Dean._

_Dean. Dean? Dean!_

* * *

The glass room was silent. Frïs sat at his throne, legs crossed and grin spread wide.

Silver eyes glidded over the glass floor, peering down into the pool far below it. Men and women swam like lost souls in some vat, vying for the siren's attention. He smiled down at them, _his_ souls, _his_ power, then looked up. To the side, where his most precious possession sat.

Dean Winchester, a soul that could power an entire city, sat limp in his own glass throne.

One of Frïs' creation, made of colored glass and set with jewels of the most luxurious tastes. It was adorned with women, or rather female bodies. Hollow shells Frïs had made himself, that fell over Dean's lap, his shoulders, his legs, and pooled at his feet like useless sluts. They were dolls, made to match the hunter's gluttonous drive for bare skin and desire.

Dean was laid still, conscious but unresponsive. Busy enjoying the lovely worlds Frïs made available for him. Harems, loving parents, a happily-ever-after with his long lost heartthrob. All of it was possible as long as Dean stayed put, here where he could be used.

"Frïs." A voice called firmly through the glass room. It echoed off the endless ceiling that stretched into darkness indefintely. The word, his name, bounded off the far glass wall where a waterfall leading to the pool below was framed. It sounded through the stretching room, through the empty air.

It fell on the white-haired man's ears, and was promptly ignored.

Balthazar sighed, not surprised by the arrogant siren's reaction.

Castiel, on the other hand, was uncaring of the exchange. He kept silent, but every cell of his body screamed to move.

Blue eyes were locked on the small throne across the room. On Dean within it, and the empty bodies Frïs had constructed to hang off him. Sickness boiled in the angel's stomach.

Everything about the scene was wrong, Sinful. Revolting.

And the man -the monster- that caused it all was lounging as if he couldn't be bothered by the armored angels before him.

"How about we resolve this the easy way." Balthazar chimed in, looking from the siren to Dean. Beside him, Castiel's hands curled into tight armored fists. No guards or weapons were in sight, but it meant nothing to the two ready for war.

"You give us the human-" Balthazar continued, taking a step forward.

And that was all it took.

"No can do." Frïs sighed in irritation. The second his eyes turned to the two, the ground quaked. Glass shattered and splintered, and all at once the pool was empty. The souls were his to do with as he pleased, and in that moment they were no longer his toys, but his weapons.

At least six of the towering crustal beasts filled the room, sleek spired faces turned to the angels.

"Stick to the plan." Bal whispered under his breath. Cas nodded.

As simply as a step forward, war was waged.

Balthazar's sword clattered off the impenatrable arm of one of the golemns as it reached for him. The others converged but size made it difficult. Only three managed to close in on him, taking sluggish turns at swiping at him.

From behind the mass, Frïs watched with dull eyes.

"Come now, Balthazar." He called calmly as Cas ducked beneath the legs of one glass goliath.

"We both know you were the best Heaven had to offer. You even acheived free will, all on your own."

Balthazar grinned, ducking away from another crashing crystal fist.

"You spread out those awful weapons to humans, even prevented the titanic and made all those lovely souls for dear Cas. And how did he repay you?"

This blow he couldn't dodge. Armor dented and crumpled under the force, and as the blonde angel went sliding against the floor Castiel made a race for Dean.

But of course, it wouldn't be that easy..

A screech lit the room. Frïs watched with a wry smile as Cas hit the floor, teeth grit and hands clamped against his ears. Balthazar stayed down until the cry ceased, and in an instant he rose. Blood splattered the side of his face where the swing had crashed into his jaw, splintering bones and teeth into a bloody mess in his mouth.

His sword rose again defiantly, ready for round two.

"Dean!" Cas shouted, trying to stir the hunter from his limp silence.

Dean stayed still. Cas lunged, crippled a second time by another wail.

"I mean really, who are you to defend him?" Frïs asked, rising from his throne as two of the golemns converged on Cas, leaving three to surround Balthazar at the other end of the room.

"He killed you. Betrayed you. Right after you professed loyalty to him, no less!"

Frïs' hands clapped together as he advanced, watching the angel duck and slide, swinging fruitlessly against the crystal arms reaching for him. The blade slid, bounced, and scraped off the hard skin. No slash, stab, or brace could stop them.

Nothing could prevent their advance. Their hands crashed into walls and floor. Spiked fingers gripped and missed, until at last one found purchase. One took hold of Balthazar's leg, crushing and dragging the other down to lay in agony in the floor.

Frïs came to stand over him, smiling softly at the sight of the broken angel.

Across the room, a leap's distance from Dean, Castiel was in the floor. His hands clamoured over the hilt of his sowrd, swinging with the same amount of success Balthazar had. The blade rang as it bounced off their skin, finding no purchase in the hard texture of their joints, heads, fingers. It offered no defense against their grips as they came close, wrapping harsh hands around Castiel's arms, legs. One wide foot pressed to his torso, crushing. Ribs popped and lungs fought for air.

All of it, every breath, was fruitless.

"I think you boys need to learn a thing or two about this place." Frïs sighed, sounding almost like some disappointed father. "You see, moving up the layers? It's an honor. A real privaledge. Me letting you into my domain? You should appreciate that a lot more. You should be happy to be here! I could give you everything, if you'd just be a little more _thankful._"

To accent his words the beasts crushed. Castiel's arm shattered into a thousand pieces. Balthazar's legs splintered within themselves, with arms next in the beasts' grasps.

Among the screams of angels, Frïs smiled.

"How about you two take a little field trip? Back beyond The Gate, where you can struggle to appreciate what I offer you." He stepped back, back towards his throne.

And the growls of a dog echoed off the glass.

"That's not the way that works, Frïs." Vox's voice boomed throughout the room. A single piercing bark met the air before she charged to the left. Frïs' face contorted in repulsive rage as he twisted, shouting against the sight of the black dog jumping, nails scraping the crystal beasts' bodies.

One by one her maw flashed wide, slamming down on arms, legs, and throats. Each hold brought the crystal to shatter, diamond shards spilling out into the floor.

"Stop! Stop it!" Frïs screamed, face blooming red with anger as sleek white hair came undone, fraying around his face. He advanced as the third golemn fell, and Vox landed all four paws firmly before him.

"Disgusting _dog!_" He screamed. Vox lunged, and a swift kick from the siren sent her reeling back.

As he advanced on her, mind narrowed to her single revolting existence, Balthazar rose. His body, mended by grace, flashed from one end of the room to the other. He didn't have the power to break the monsters. Yet still he knelt before his comrade, pulling Cas free of the immobile monster's grip.

With Frïs distracted they were still, silent and unmoving without orders.

Grace flooded their blood, mending bones and skin until the two angels stood with battered armor falling off of them in pieces.

Around the room Frïs and Vox danced, the dark dog lunging and growling as the siren dodged and rebuttled her every move with sharp kicks.

She was biding time, it was obvious to anyone not blinded by rage.

"Quick." Balthazar breathed, pulling Castiel to his feet. Without a second through the angel moved to Dean, pushing and pulling the soulles bodies away from the hunter before gripping Dean's shoulders tightly.

"Dean. Dean?" Castiel cried, shaking the hunter slightly. "Dean! You have to fight it!"

* * *

_Fight._

_Fighting._

The words were a blurry mess. Praise and erotica blended into a strange mush.

The word seemed artificial and loose. The details became blurs.

Slowly Dean's world was falling apart. It was when a woman advanced, all hips and chest, with John's face that he struggled against the illusions.

_"You have to fight it."_ Someone called. A voice he didn't recognize.

His home opened up around him, and from some distant corner of the empty house Lisa called his name.

Dean looked around, ever sense on high alert. He was in the kitchen, and one look out the window sent his blood running cold. There was nothing. No lights, no stars, no yard.

Just black. Empty, bottomless black.

"Dean?" Lisa called from far away.

He didn't want to find her. Didn't want to see her.

He had left her behind for a reason. Her and Ben... it had to be done.

"Dean?" She called again, and when he looked up she was at the doorway.

"I've been callin gyou, couldn't you hear me?" She asked, face drawn up in that irritated confusion he felt like he knew perfectly. As if he'd been seeing that face for the past several years.

Something in his chest gave a painful squeeze.

"Baby?" She said slowly, staring at him. The irritation faded as concern strengthened.

He'd left this life behind when Crowley had taken them. But why? The memories were distand and fuzzy, just out of reach.

When Lisa came closer, setting the laundry basket in her arms aside, Dean backed up against the counter.

She stopped just out of arm's reach and stared at him. Her expression was obvious. Pain. Hurt.

His chest flared out in flayed ribbons.

Involuntarily Dean reached for her, and Lisa granted his wish. Her head pressed to his chest as his hand weaved through her hair, holding her.

"Are you alright?" She said softly.

Dean didn't know what to say. He just held her. Gripped her against himself as if he'd never let go.

But he had to. He had to, for her own good. Or people like Crowley were just going to hurt her, hunt her, to get to him.

Tears were burning their way into his eyes. Which was impossible. He was a hunter, a strong one. The best one. No way the best hunter on earth would cry. But he was, thick hot tears that ran down his tired broken face and into her hair.

It smelt of lilac. A scent that he couldn't handle. Every time it hit him Lisa's face entered his mind.

It was that smell that broke him down, bringing him to wrap both arms around her and bury his face in that painfully familiar hair.

She didn't speak. She knew better, because she knew him. She knew the things he'd been through, vaguely, and she knew that he didn't need or want words. So she was quiet as she wrapped her own arms around his thick torso, one hand patting his back slowly.

"It's ok, Dean." She finally whispered. "You're safe here."

But he wasn't, and he knew he wasn't. He knew this was all fake. That it wasn't really Lisa.

But oh how he wanted it to all be real.

"Lisa, baby, I gotta go." He cried into her.

Her grip tightened. "What?" She murmured, shocked but trying to hold on. Always, she tried to keep him by her side. It was a will of iron strong enough to break Dean into a thousand pieces in her arms.

"No. Stay. Stay with me, Dean."

But he just shook his head slowly, hands twitching as he forced them to her shoulders, pushing her back.

"It's not safe for you. You or Ben. I'm just looking out for you."

Her eyes widened, glassing over with water that was quick to spill.

"_No_, Dean." She protested. "Stay."

But he couldn't. The hunter shook his head, backing away.

He moved with slow, agonizing steps to the front door.

Every inch of the way Lisa was there, pulling him backwards to no avail.

"Dean, please!" She begged. Pleaded. Sobbed, wildly.

But he stayed set on the door. He knew what would happen if he stayed.

She and Ben would die. Their happily ever after could only be promised if he left.

That was the price of being a hunter. Either you found someone to hunt with you, and never had any kids for the sake of protecting them.. Or you stayed by yourself. Always.

When he gripped the door handle, her nails dug into his coat.

"Dean, please!" She screamed, desperate. "Just tell me what I did wrong!"

Something about it just wasn't right. Just wasn't her. But he turned anyway, torn to pieces by the sight of her tortured face.

"I have to." He whispered, barely able to form the words.

"No!" She was furious. Hands lashed out, grabbing his face. "Stay with me, Dean."

It was an order, not a plead. He didn't know what to say or do. So he stared, mortified as her nails dug into his skin.

"You're leaving for that angel, aren't you?!" Lisa's face twisted, becoming something distinctly not her.

Dean, still, was speechless. Slowly she bled away, the colors fading to black all around him before popping vividly into a new scene.

The pier. John.

"Are you telling me.. What, are you gay, son?" John asked, looking appauled. But, more than that, he seemed disappointed.

Dean's heart burst into a sprint.

"Wh-What? No! Of course not!" he said instantly.

"Then explain to me just why in the hell you walked out on your wife and son? They need you Dean, and you just left them behind. And for what? Some angel?"

Dean couldn't form words. What was John talking about? He hadn't walked out on Lisa, had he?

No- he'd saved her. Left her behind, without memory of him. But.. how? He couldn't remember.

"Suddenly that damn angel shows up and you're out the door after him." John spat, shaking his head.

"He killed Bobby. I get it. But Lisa's more important than some murderer, isn't she?"

Dean was cornered. Startled.

Everything about it was wrong. Twisted, and false. Hollow.

He just wanted to go back to the smiles and laughs. The naked girl and John's praise.

He wanted to go back to Lisa, laughing and tossing a pepperoni at him as Ben boasted he could eat more slices than Dean.

"What are you talking about?" The hunter groaned as he backed away, falling into a chair just behind his legs. The pier was fading, but John remained.

"Bobby is dead because of that angel. He tried to destroy the whole world, Dean!" John shouted.

Dean shook his head. That wasn't right. It wasn't what happened.

But what did happen? He couldn't remember..

"That's not-" Dean tried, but John was in his face.

"No hunter I know would ever let someone hurt their family." He bellowed. "What if he went after Sam?"

What if who..?

_And then it all fell into place._

Dean sat, silent, staring. John's red face was inches from his, shouting.

This wasn't his father. It wasn't John Winchester.

As soon as he opened his mouth again Dean was on his feet, standing alone in the dark abyss.

"That's not what happened." The hunter said firmly. "Cas made a mistake. A damn big one, but a mistake still. He didn't mean to. Bobby died..." He stopped, and John looked ready to move in.

"Bobby died because we were careless. Because Dick Roman shot him. There was nothing more Sam and I could have done for him. It wasn't Cas' fault, he never meant for that to happen."

"Oh, so now you're defending him?!" John sneered. Something about his features was off. They were smoother. Younger. Tighter. Slowly Dean watched as his father bent and grew, turning to a very familiar face. Full black eyes stared back at Dean, grinning.

"You know it's a sin to lay with another man." The demon laughed.

Dean stared at his own face, grinning with demonic malice, and felt his jaw tense shut.

When he was quiet, his demon self laughed.

"Face it,_ Dean._" It spat his name like some acrid insult. "You're one hell of a faggot for that angel."

All at once his hands were at the demon's throat.

They tumbled through the darkness, falling weightlessly.

"I'm not gay!" Dean shouted, but the demon just laughed.

"You're not even a hunter, are you? You're just _a demon,_ like _me!_" It cackled. "You're not a man, Deany. You're just some screwed up pansy who can't even exist without his brother Sammy around to validate him!"

Dean withdrew from the words. Green eyes shut against all the black around him, and his mind swirled with the tumbling of his balance through the deep nothingness.

"You can shut your eyes all you want." The demon laughed, curling both hands around Dean's throat.

"But that doesn't make it not-true. You're just a worthless. Weak. Girly. _Fag._"

* * *

Vox's teeth dug deep into Frïs' arm. He shouted, nailing the tip of one white shoe into her ribs.

As a canine yelp hit the air she slid back against the floor, through the diamond shards and towards Balthazar. His sword was readied in an instant, but the fight was not his own.

Vox was on her feet before he could help, and as she lunged again at the white and red siren Cas' frantic calls to the hunter faltered.

Balthazar turned, looking the chaos over with wide eyes.

Castiel was shaking Dean with no response while Vox began to slow in her assault.

It wouldn't be long before Frïs calmed, gaining victory against the barghest and the angels.

Frantically Balthazar looked for some source of an upper hand, but none arrived.

**"Fuck what anyone thinks!"**

The words silenced the room. Vox, struggling to all four feet, looked up tiredly.

Balthazar was frozen in the center of the scattered diamonds. Frïs was struck into stillness feet from his throne, coat torn to ribbons and blood staining pristine clothes.

Castiel, on his knees, was unmoving. He didn't even breathe as he look up, staring into Dean's eyes.

**"Loving that angel doesn't make me any less of a man!"**

To Dean, the room was empty and black. John, Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Crowley, Sam, and even the hookers stood around him. They were protesting. Disappointed, hurt. Acusing Cas. Blaming him for all that had gone wrong, or devaluing Dean.. What? Why?

Because of the way he felt. A feeling that wouldn't just go away if he pushed it away or ignored it.

It was a part of him, the same way loving pie or the impala was. The same way loving Lisa was.

Loving Cas didn't make him care for her any less. But she was something he could never have. She was a love he could only protect by leaving behind.

But Castiel.. The oblivious, nerdy, emotional, mistake-making, human angel.. Him, Dean could love.

Him, Dean did love.

**"Loving him makes me more of one!"**

And just like that it was gone.

The darkness. The faces, of friends and family he realized only in that moment couldn't possibly be there.

Because he was in Purgatory, with Castiel and Balthazar. He was in Cas' grip, with monsters bare feet away and blood in the air.

Dean blinked, and looked from the blonde angel staring at him in surprise to Vox behind him, and Frïs across the room from her.

And then, slowly, he looked to Cas. Frightened and amazed Cas kneeling at his feet with blue eyes wide with shock and something else. Something Dean couldn't understand. But he felt it.

He felt the bond, indescribably strong and brightly alive between them.

_"Dean.."_ Cas whispered, hands once limp in his lap as if out of any hope twitching and rising slowly.

Before Dean could make a move, laughter filled the room.

Frïs' laughter.

All head turned, staring at the disheveled bloody heap of a man.

"How beautiful." He mocked, snarling. "You think that little confession will save you?"

Again he laughed. It was a bitter, sharp noise.

"Your soul is mine, Dean Winchester. You will assure that I am the strongest of any layer ruler! You're not going anywhere!"

In a flash he was low, hand grasping a stray shard of diamond before he ran. Balthazar moved to stop him, but the beasts came alive, wailing their pleas for attention and love and praise.

The angel hit the floor hard, crying out against the splitting agony.

In his disturbing throne Dean curled down low, both arms coming over Castiel as if to shield him.

There was no time to do more. In that instant Frïs was over them, hand raised with the makeshift crystal blade risen high.

_"I will be the best!"_ Pride screamed.

Castiel rose off the floor, trembling from the shrieks of the beasts but driven beyond the pain by concern for Dean. He had already died. His soul was already bound to Purgatory. But Dean's.. Dean was still free. Still able to leave justly. Still in need of protecting.

Castiel slammed both hands into the back of the throne, looming over Dean to protect him.

Wings flayed out wide, hiding any inch of the hunter from view.

Dean's face reflected horror. Protest.

Castiel smiled, readying for the pain.

Yet it never arrived.

What came next was a noise. Wet, yet familiar.

Then, a thud and a clamour.

When the crystal beasts' screams stopped, Cas' wings curled back. His body straughtened, standing tall and revealing to Dean the sight all eyes were fixed on.

Frïs lay in the floor, unmoving with silver eyes skyward. Blood was pooling from his throat, rushing out in thick streams to stain his snowy hair.

Over him stood Vox, six red eyes wide with shadowy black fur standing on wispy end.

Everything was silent. Everyone stared.

"Do you.. have _any idea __**what you just made me do?!**_" She screamed.

Her head jerked up, glaring at the three before her in panic.

From behind them, Balthazar began to laugh.

"Honey, everywhere these boys go they throw out the rulebook." He chuckled. "_It's glorious._"

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, Iruchan, Siahposh, Fool for Dean, Slashfilled-mind, rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT, Canonbury, Raven Kayleon, JoRinoaValentine, XxStacefacexX, destielship101, Sunkissed Lavender, Ero-Chibi-Chan, summertimeinla, Ceruleaneyes137, Guest, TTCyclone, and MircaleWhipped._


	20. L490

**A/N: **_I do not own Castiel/Dean/Sam/Balthazar/Purgatory/Supernatural/Ect. Fris, Vox, and Reyka however, are mine. _

It's official- **Purgatorio now has it's own ask blog.** You can find it at "**spnpurgatorio . tumblr . com**". Feel free to ask Dean, Cas, or even Vox (and now Reyka) anything you like!

**Chapter Soundtrack: **30 Seconds to Mars' _"L490" _(This is also, at least for me, Envy Layer's theme song.)

* * *

"_No, you don't get it._" Vox snapped, all six red eyes widely looking between the angels and hunter.

No one really moved, or said anything. Cas' hands had moved, holding Dean's knees as if to push himself to his feet from them, though he never got further than the single shift.

Balthazar was standing tall with armor akwardly bent and cracked all over, sword loosely gripped in one hand while the other fiddled with a buckle, ready to get out of the cumbersome attire.

All of them seemed at ease. The peace after a settling storm, where bonds tightened and hearts silently rejoiced. All of it had the black dog's shadowy tendrils rippling with anxiety.

"Without a leader, a layer will collapse." Vox explained tightly, looking between them all for some sign of the fear and panic coursing through her own veins.

"Something like that could shatter all of Purgatory."

Dean was the first to react. Green eyes moved across the room, from Fris' body to Vox's eyes.

"But.. won't he just come back? Like Ruby did?"

The dog let out a ragged sigh and shook her head.

"He _will _come back. _To The Gate._ That's what happens when you die, you go back to the beginning unless a Layer Master roots you to themselves." Anxiously Vox turned, pacing with tail tightly swiping through the air at her heels.

"I have no idea what could happen now, or how fast. The system might collapse. Souls could get out.." Her voice began to drop, steadily fading into murmurs more to herself than the three now trading half-hopeful stares.

Eagerly Dean stood, pausing long enough to help Cas to his feet before turning back to the frayed dog.

"Is there any way we could use that? I mean, getting rid of us now might save this place some trouble." Dean suggested, looking around the room as if some visible crack or doorway would show up. Barely a second passed behind his words before Vox turned, marching towards him with every smoky edge of her body flaring out.

The black mass grew, expanding and lashing waves of smoke in all directions before soon all that loomed in front of the trio were six narrowed red eyes set in a formless mass of black nothing.

"_Are. You. In. Sane?!_" Vox boomed. "_Castiel._ Do educate your pet human on just _how many_ souls are in Purgatory." Her words bite at the air, bringing Dean to a bristling silence as Cas looked down, clearing his throat uneasily.

His lips parted to explain, but Dean rose one hand and shook his head in silent cue to stop.

"Alright, I get it, never mind." It was worth a shot to at least ask..

Slowly the darkness receeded. Vox growled before turning, returning to her pacing. Every step brought her body to shrinking, until finally a large dog-sized shadow was stalking the diamond-covered room.

"You two just need to head on. Reyka will come to collect you if I don't send you forward." Vox stopped, sat, and stared at a bare spot in the floor. Fris had once laid there, but now all that was left was bloodstained glass.

"Reyka?" Dean asked, looking to Cas in hopes of an explination. The angel just shrugged, glancing to Balthazar as Dean turned back to Vox.

"Reyka, who blinds the envious." The barghest confirmed with a small nod. "She is -was- a shapeshifter. But now-" Vox fell silence, blinking slowly once before giving a small sigh.

"See for yourself."

All at once the three turned, looking to the other side of the room where Vox was staring.

Against the far glass wall was a slumped figure, nothing visible but the sweeping grey cloak adoring it's tall but thin frame. It was inhumanly stickish, and as Dean stared at the upturned hood it's head began to rise.

For half a second he caught a glimpse of pale white skin, gaunt features, and the eyes.. Sewn shut with loose, worn thread millenia old. An in the same instant the image was burned into his mind, everything turned black.

"Cas.." He murmured sharply, reaching out in alarm. The familiar touch of heat and fabric was there, and as he latched on to it a hand grasped his shoulder.

"I'm here, Dean." Castiel replied, sounding equally alarmed.

"Shut your eyes. Turn away." Vox's voice came from behind them.

Castiel was the first to do so, and as he turned and opened his eyes sight returned in shades of clear glass and spilled diamond shards. Vox sat among it all, staring at the form still looming behind them.

"Reyka." The barghest greeted with a bowed head.

"Vox." A featherlight voice like delicate chimes returned from the background.

"What the hell was that?" Dean snapped as soon as his eyes opened. He looked around, taking in the sights of Castiel and Balthazar with an expression of angry panic as if he thought he'd never see them again.

Cas was flattered, but silent. Balthazar was the one to speak first.

"I'm assuming that was where the _'who blinds the envious'_ comes from."

Vox nodded.

"I'll try to hold down things here until Mother can find a replacement. After that little show I doubt Fris will be back to work any time soon." Red eyes trailed from Castiel to Reyka, then back.

"Get going, then."

But the angel and his hunter stayed in place.

Both of them looked to Balthazar, though Castiel's gaze spoke volumes more. He was asking, about his brother's future and the diamond cancer on his neck. What would he do, if left behind?

Balthazar simply smiled, quick to turn from his friends to the black dog across from them.

"Looks like you could use some help." He quipped casually. "I helped crash the party, might as well clean up some." He shrugged, to which Vox nodded.

"Fine. I could use help running this _and_ The Gate."

Yet still Cas and Dean were immobile.

"Balthazar," Castiel began, to which the blonde laughed slightly and moved closer, laying one hand on the angel's shoulder.

"Don't worry, friend." He said quietly. "I'll catch up when you two get done breaking the other layers." His grin split wide as Cas returned a small shadow of the expression. At his side Dean was smirking and nodding, full intent on holding the angel to his words.

"Mother is going to kill me for this mess.." Vox groaned as she looked around.

"Well, I think Fris' trouble has kept you two back long enough. Get going before I have Reyka drag you by your toes."

At ease, the hunter looked to Cas with a serious expression. They shared a moment of solidarity before nodding and turning away.

"Oh, and Dean?" The barghest called tightly. Dean paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"Don't think this mess will keep me busy for too long. I'll be kicking your ass in the future for all this, I promise."

Dean watched as the shadows thinned, relatively sure it was a doglike smile he saw on the other before she vanished into the thin air. Balthazar was fast to strip his armor away, and after a brief one-armed hug between the blonde and brunette angels, Reyka stepped forward to claim her newest souls.

The grey-cloaked figure had her head down once more, form shielded from view.

Dean wasn't sure what to say as he came to face her, expecting more blindness but receiving none. Even Castiel was silent as they waited for what new surprised Purgatory had to offer.

"I do hope.." Her voice came again, innocent and calm like what one would expect from an angel in a storybook, "you do not bring such chaos to my layer."

And just like that, the lights were gone.

Colors faded to black.

The world around them ceased to exist, and all either had to rely on was the sudden pressure of hands. Dean found Cas' hand in an instant and held on tight, body tensing in refusal to tip his balance while the angel did the same.

Things were dead quiet. Dean looked around, but found only black.

He wanted to speak, but was almost afraid of shattering the strange abyss.

In time, Castiel was the one to talk, and his words set every cell in Dean's body on fire.

_"Sam?"_ The angel asked out of confusion.

* * *

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, Iruchan, Siahposh, Fool for Dean, Slashfilled-mind, rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT, Canonbury, Raven Kayleon, JoRinoaValentine, XxStacefacexX, destielship101, Sunkissed Lavender, Ero-Chibi-Chan, summertimeinla, Ceruleaneyes137, Guest, TTCyclone, MircaleWhipped, and Asita Shan._


	21. Carry On?

**A/N: **So I realize now my absence is hard to explain.

To be honest, when the new season was close to coming out I had a few people I know tell me there was no point in continuing this fic, and I believed them. I believed there was no point in pushing this forward when the canon was coming out.

But I miss this story, these characters, this plot. (I love season 8 so far, don't get me wrong)

I guess basically what I'm doing here is reaching for everyone interested in the story the only way I know how.

I want to know what you all think. Even with the current season going on, is there interest in this? Would anyone prefer I keep writing, or let things just fade here?

**Please let me know what you think.** You can send me messages on here or on the Purgatorio tumblr (**spnpurgatorio . tumblr**)

Regardless of the verdict, I want to thank you all. For the love, support, ideas, criticism, and so much more. This project was so much fun and even if this particular story ends here I can promise you all more Destiel writing from me no matter what.


	22. Alibi

**A/N: **_I do not own Castiel/Dean/Sam/Balthazar/Purgatory/Supernatural/Ect. Fris, Vox, and Reyka however, are mine._

It's official- **Purgatorio now has it's own ask blog.** You can find it at "**spnpurgatorio . tumblr . com**". Feel free to ask Dean, Cas, or even Vox (and now Reyka) anything you like!

**Soundtrack: **30 Seconds to Mars' _"Alibi"_ (Some foreshadowing for Cas for the next several chapters. If you lose hope in where he's going, listen to this)

* * *

_Can you hear me?_**  
**_**Yes.**_**  
**_Castiel?_

He could practically feel Dean's spiking nerves beside him. Hands were interlocked, holding fast to the comfort of touch in the new blind world. The second Sam's name had left Castiel's lips teh hunter's grip had doubled, locking Castiel's hand in a vicegrip of anxiety.

**"**Cas?" Dean whispered tightly. He didn't want to shatter whatever was happening. Could Cas see? Why would he see Sam though? Could he hear something? Was this some sick game from Reyka?

**"****Sam." **Castiel said again, testing the strangeness of the situation.

Seconds into the new layer he'd been met with the other brother's voice, calling out repeatedly. He wondered why Dean didn't react, before the answer became obvious.

**"**_Is Dean with you?" _Sam asked anxiously. Castiel nodded before realizing Sam was nowhere around. The angel shifted, uncomfortable in the darkness. He couldn't see any of his surroundings, making balance a precarious thing. All he had in the moment was Dean. His warm hand locked tight. The sound of his anxious breathing. The smell of him, all motor oil and leather and dirt and blood despite there being none even on him.

Letting his thumb run briefly against the skin of Dean's hand in his, Castiel reached out for the voice calling to him with a quiet, **"****Yes. He's beside me."**

**"**Cas." Dean called again, practically seconds from jumping up and down with nerves. Finally the angel shifted, tilting his head toward Dean as was habit only to clumsily brush skin. Dean wasn't sure what exactly had touched his face before recoiling, but judging by the speed at which it retreated and the impossible scent he'd only come to find during a thunderstorm or near angels, he knew what to assume.

**"**It's Sam." Castiel spoke awkwardly, only after a pause in which neither of them mentioned the brushing of cheeks. "Can you hear him?"

Dean's heart froze. Was Sam here? Why could only Cas hear him?

**"**What's he saying? Is it a tr-" but the hunter was cut off by Cas' voice replying to some unheard words.

**"****We're in Purgatory."**Cas said flatly.**  
**There was a long silence, tense on all sides. After a while Sam's voice returned, strained by what Castiel assumed was laughter he hadn't heard.**  
****"**_Good to see you're back to-"_normal. That was what he meant, though the sentence awkwardly dropped. Cas didn't say anything.**  
**

**"**_I know you're in Purgatory. I mean _where_." _

Castiel blinked against the never ending darkness. Eyes looked around, searching. All he had was impenetrable ink and the floating mental image of Dean. He couldn't see the hunter, but he could feel him. And that alone let his mind construct the idea of Dean, standing beside him with his brow furled in anxiety and palms sweating with adrenaline. The need to save his brother from danger was rising up in vicious waves, though Castiel sensed no immediate danger.

**"****The layer ruled by Reyka." **Castiel said. This seemed to unsettle things. The ground bucked as if alive, and as his knees returned the motion to steady himself Dean's grip on his hand became something almost painful. Surely a human would have been in distress by now. However the angel just gave a soft squeeze back, reassuring the other as they waited for another tremor.

For a bit, things were quiet again. Then the most unexpected tone reached out.

**"**_Castiel?"_Inias called. Cas was caught between smiling and recoiling from the sound. Instead he said nothing. He waited, to which Inias seemed to slowly understand and push forward.**  
****"**_We will get you out."_He promised, with the unwavering resolution Cas came to expect his brothers and sisters to carry.

Castiel didn't argue. He didn't say he wanted Dean out first, no matter what. Not with the hunter there beside him. All he did was nod in the nothingness, then slowly begin to rise to his feet.**"**Dean." Cas called. "We need to go."

There was no time for sitting around. They could talk to Sam on the move.

Dean was seconds from giving an affirmative when the ground bucked again. It was a violent, purposeful shatter that launched Cas back onto his tailbone. Dean hissed with pain somewhere off to the side, and as the pain let the shock of the moment sink in they realized simultaneously their hands were empty.

**"**Cas?" Dean was first to call, half-shouting in alarm even though the angel was inches from him. Sitting up, Castiel gave a small grunt of displeasure. His wings had curled unevenly, providing a less than comfortable way of landing. Adjusting himself slowly, he moved the right appendage slowly, expecting broken bones but sensing none.

**"**I'm fine, Dean." He called back as he struggled to his feet. Dean was already standing, as much the angel could tell by the sound of thudding boots as he regained his balance. Yet just as Dean was up and Cas was halfway there, the ground threw them again. **  
**Cas' head bounced against the harsh ground as Dean gave a sharp grunt of pain. They both stayed down this time as the ground continued to shake and buck and tilt.

Dean called out once, twice, three times for his angel. But a humming sound was reverberating through the abyss, drowning out all else. Sounds of Dean's voice and Sam's were made whispers beneath the eardrum shattering quake. The only noise that piercing anything for Castiel was an all-too-familiar cry of Dean in agony.

All at once he scrambled, rolling to his feet with hands gripping the slick hard ground for traction. **  
**Yet there was none. Like some waxed ballroom the floor was merciless as he struggled to reach Dean but found only tilting earth. When at last he thought he reached something, it was only a fissure. An ending, a crevice. Cas cried out, but the humming only amplified against his voice.

He wasn't sure how long the pounding hum went on. Long after he slid from the toppling ground down, down into nothing. There was no ground. No up, or down. No walls or ceiling. No sound beyond the consistent deafening hum. Things bled into nothing. No touch. No sound beyond the audio sensation of nothing.**  
**  
Truly, this was purgatory. The religious land of nothing people theorized about. This was it.**  
**Cas fell through the emptiness for long enough that the sensation became all he could remember. Everything bled from recollection to anxiety, then down from that into mute complacency. He had time to worry of Dean, then nearly forget the hunter in the maddening absence of anything.

It was only when his body was numb, eyes shut and mouth resigned to silence, that an end came. The sensation of ground beneath his feet arrived slowly. It eased up to meet him gradually, sneaking up on him almost. Castiel didn't react. He didn't -couldn't- fully process the new position until sound pierced the silence. The hum he'd grown so used to had faded long ago, but replaced by the ringing of silence he hadn't realized until that moment.

At first, all he could hear was man's voice.**  
**Shouting, angrily. Screaming loud enough for the entire church to hear.

Church? Yes.. Yes that's what this place was. He knew it, as if it were his own memory. Somehow the surroundings were impossibly familiar. Like he'd been here once, when he was younger.

The preacher screamed and shouted, giving a sermon about demons and treachery. About safety and the prevention of witchcraft. There was a demon in their midst, and the only way to really stop it was to banish it.**  
**They had tried sealing it away. Closing it's eyes to ensure it wouldn't steal their souls. Binding it's hands and feet to keep it from calling it's father to plague them. But now they could not allow mercy any longer. Now they had to rid it of it's tongue, lest it persuade them to evil.

Castiel was still, listening. Waiting. He sat with hands and feet tied, with eyes shut with thread and body shaking in the cold. There was no more than a single sheet, a torn cloak guarding his skin from the town's vicious winter.

Without a word he stayed still, blind to the world but painfully aware of it. He knew what the men wanted as they pried open his mouth. They knew what they were doing as furious hands pulled at his tongue. Blades were not far behind, and despite the impossible agony that ripped every cell of his body to pieces, he was still. Silent except for muffled cries and screams of pain. He did not curse a soul. He did not hate them. They were his family. All he had.

_My only sin was loving too much._

A featherlight voice graced his ears. Long after the quakes of pain faded to nothing and the hands on his skin turned from alarmed and righteous to no more than memory, she spoke.

**"**Reyka." Castiel called hoarsely, having forgotten the sound of his own voice.

_I loved them, despite it. Despite being a demon to them. I searched the world for a home. For love. No one wanted something as ugly as me, so I sought out forms to be beautiful. I found a home. A husband. But when he learned the truth, I became a demon to him._A heartbreaking laugh floated through the blind abyss.**  
**_I still love him, after all he did._

Castiel had nothing to say. No words could form that meant enough. To console. Sympathize. Question. Compliment. He wasn't sure what to say to Reyka, or the memories he felt that he knew were her own. He didn't call for Dean, or ask about the hunter. It was tactless and unsafe.

So he fell again into silence. Waiting. Wondering.**  
**It was with the same sensation of falling that he eased, trying to understand this place.**  
****  
**After what could have been seconds, or hours, Rekya's voice arrived again.

_You must find your own way out, angel. With no help of the hunter. As he shall without you._

Castiel nodded. That made sense. Though for the life of him he couldn't summon a single sensation of wanting to move forward. Dean was out there, waiting, wasn't he? He knew he needed to move, but feet found no purchase in ground. He simply continued to fall.

* * *

**_____Thank you all for the encouragement and support. To those who want to see this story go on, this chapter is for you. It's not romantic or ground-breaking, but I enjoyed writing it more than I have anything in a while recently. So thank you very much for giving me that joy again._**

_____Special Thanks To: Gemini Peverell, Snape Heiress, Alyson1.0, stefanswifey01, TV Centric Universe, Casismyfavorite, KansasAngel94, end butterfly, Jilly950, agrove, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, halle mcready, Iruchan, Siahposh, Fool for Dean, Slashfilled-mind, rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT, Canonbury, Raven Kayleon, JoRinoaValentine, XxStacefacexX, destielship101, Sunkissed Lavender, Ero-Chibi-Chan, summertimeinla, Ceruleaneyes137, Guest, TTCyclone, MircaleWhipped, Asita Shan, WhatTheFangirl, Aliniah, pinkskyline, SaintsGhost, Neko of Death, diAbolicAl'eAtherheAd, kathka, K.S.T.M, Ashfire28, remanth, and . .Yet_


	23. No Song , Only Silence

**A/N:** No song this time. I wrote this in utter silence. Sorry for the stupidly long hiatus/delay/whatever. Also sorry this isn't longer for all the time it took to get it out.

Still, it's here, so there's that. Also, feel free in your comments to leave notes about how you want to see the story go. I won't find it rude. Actually, I find it very helpful, and you never know- I might just use your idea/s!

Spoilerish- this layer likely isn't going to take up many chapters. I'm working on how this fic will be different from S8, so I'm not lollygagging in terms of stretching out scenes I can cover fast. That being said, the following are little things this will change from S8. If you don't want to know, just drop below the pretty line and enjoy the chapter. =)

Differences: _No heaven/hell tablets._ Since the focus is on purgatory and getting out, there's _no Naomi endeavor_ or tablets. (Though she will be used later) _Amelia and Benny also will appear_, though in a different way. Sam will have lovely adventures outside Purgatory, which I will try to write about but not spend a looot of time on, as the focus here really is Dean and Cas. Oh- and Inias won't die. That I know of? You can also expect appearances in the future from Gabriel and Bobby. I'm not sure about the other angels yet, but if you really want to see one, or some specific character in particular, say so in the comments! 3

* * *

Lisa and Ben were getting ready for dinner.

Dean was washing up in the bathroom, body naked after his shower and hands clawing at one another in the sink. It seemed like no matter how much he scrubbed the motor oil wouldn't come off all the way. After a time Lisa knocked, checking on him. Love and worry were in her voice, and Dean's reply came as soft as soothing as an angel's.

_Angels_.

_Castiel_.

The memory faded. Dean was in nothing. Purgatory- a place of eternal nothing.  
He couldn't see, but he could feel. Taste. Touch. Hear.

At some point memories began to bubble up around him. At first there had been one he knew was not his own. One of preachers and anger, shouting about demons and cutting out a tongue.

He didn't want to think about what it all meant, though in a way he knew. Reyka.

He stayed in place after her words informing him he had to find his own way out. He would do so for himself, only because it was the only way to help Cas. His nerves were still wound tight over Sam, and the angel's unexplained conversation with the other.

Dean tried to tell himself if Sam was in the place he would have heard him. Thus either Reyka was playing games, or Sam had figured out a way to make contact. Secretly, desperately, Dean hoped for the latter.

With that weak hope and drive to protect the one he sheepishly would admit to loving, Dean moved forward. He stumbled and staggered, off balance without sight. He fell often but always rose, no matter what. He stood again and again and kept going, even when the nothingness all around him seemed to numbly fade into one memory or another.

John came up a lot in angry tirades about Sam. Lisa and Ben were second most common, tearing the hunter apart with the bittersweet recollections of a better life. Despite everything, if he could go back to those days he would. Things were simpler then. Happier. He pined for those days with a reckless lust, even though every part of him but a small agonized sliver of his heart had laid the two to rest.

It was easier to tell himself stubbornly they were dead than it was to admit he simply couldn't touch them.

Like everything else in his life, to touch something was to drag it down and break it. Like Cas, which he'd plucked from the sky and torn apart piece by piece. Dean blamed himself for Castiel's damage. From the day they met Dean had begun to destroy the other- for better or worse he couldn't tell. He didn't want to think about it.

All he wanted to think about was walking forward, searching for the other.

When the silence became too unbearable Dean shouted, calling Castiel's name over and over. There was never a reply in the nothingness. Just black, silent loneliness.

* * *

Children were laughing and playing on a playground. He watched them as the car drove by, turning away from the park and back into the woods reserved for only the most reckless hikers. John lead the way up the mountain into the thick wilderness. They made camp at sundown and John taught Dean how to load and unload all different kinds of guns. Dean wasn't very good at it at first, but John told him practice made perfect.

Dean went through the drills all night, stopping only twice- once for dinner and once to finally pass out as the sun began to rise.

* * *

At a bar in some backwater town Dean was having his first drink as a legal adult. His ID was still fake for the most part- only having his real name and age now. But it worked well enougha nd he flashed it with a bit of extra pride to the bartender that slid him a beer.

At a table near the back a small group of men were gathered, talking about trivial things ranging from work to the sports games on tv. Dean listened in and drank alone. John was at home with Sam, researching the current hunting prey. It was Dean's birthday, so John let him leave briefly for a celebratory drink. For the short time he sat at the bar he sipped his beer and listened, fantasizing about the life the older men laughed about. He dreamt about his biggest concern simply being what football team went to the playoffs, or what dinner his wife made. He sank into that luxurious daydream for a while before sliding the empty glass away and returning to his real life.

* * *

John _-Dean rarely referred to the other as Dad anymore in his mind-_ was dead. Sam was distant at best and Dean felt cold. It was the kind of chill that seeped into the bones and rattled him hard. He tried to warm himself with bodies and booze, lavishing bared skin and overflowing glasses and bottles. Alcohol worked for a few hours, sex worked for most of a night. He went between the two as needed. While waking sins were good, his dreams were better. Dark fantasies played out with women and alcohol dancing illogically, swarming him in waves. On some nights though, he was graced with torturous treats.

Dreams where he was someone else, somewhere else. Sam was always there, with Jessica. They were happy and married, expecting a child. John and Mary were sometimes there, other times not mentioned. But when they were there they were together, married and alive. Dean was always something different every time the rare dreams arose. He was never anything particularly prestigious- Sam was always the doctor, the lawyer. Dean was a factory worker, or a ranch hand. Something rough and dirty, but rewarding. A job he would leave with buddies laughing, where he'd go home to Lisa and Ben and laugh at dinner. A life where he would fall asleep in front of the tv and not wake up in a cold sweat. A life he'd never have.

* * *

_"I get it."_ Dean growled, panting. _"You're a bitch."_

He stayed down after the last fall, hands and knees pressing on a smooth ground he couldn't see. He spoke, but Reyka didn't' answer. Not that he expected her to.

Every time he stood back up a new memory or fantasy arrived. He would stand, young again, watching other children play. Begging Sam to join them while he stayed distant. John had stolen Dean's ability to join- all he had left was a loving desire for Sam to not suffer the same fate.

Dean would recoil from the memories, some real and some fake, and get back up. He would think of Sam, or Castiel, and keep going. But something new would always arrive. Sucker punches of Lisa and Ben struck him down, and painful sensations of loading guns over and over till his hands practically bled kept him down for a time.

In the end it was a final, precise strike that kept him on the floor.

* * *

Sam was beside him, staring at a mirror.

Dean's face was contorted in a nervous grimace. He looked ridiculous in a tuxedo.

He squirmed and scratched and honestly even whined. Sam laughed at that.

But when push came to shove and he stood by the altar it was worth it. Lisa came out slowly, wedding dress trailing in breathtaking white waves. Dean felt like crying, not that he'd ever admit it. To see her, stunning and smiling, and to know she chose him. She loved him. She valued him.. He couldn't breathe around it.

They shaved vows. Dean never meant any words more in his life than the ones he said to her with a gruff, half-choked through. He grit back the tears long enough to say I Do, and when Ben approached with the rings Dean smiled.

It was serene and heartbreaking.

He bore the cross in silence, knowing it was no more than a false memory. But in the moment it felt real, and that torture alone broke him into a thousand pieces.

He didn't get back up when it faded to nothing. He wasn't able to see the dress, to see Lisa, but he felt it all. He tasted the rosey air of the church like he'd been there. He heard the music, felt Lisa's hair as he pushed back the veil like it had just happened. And all the senses together created the vision in the back of his mind that was more violating and vicious than any real memory. No real vision would compare to what his mind created, and that was the most cunning edge of the torture.

He was breaking himself, over and over again until he collapsed in the darkness.

He knew what this was. The life he always wanted. The life he'd never had.

The longer he stayed on the ground, the more memories arose. Small, sweet, moments of marriage with Lisa. Little league games with Ben.

Dean grew old with Lisa in purgatory. He watched Ben mature, had _the talk_, worked hard to send him off to college. At some point logic broke and Dean's mind snapped. Sam and Jessica were there with their daughter, who teased Ben relentlessly.

None of them were hunters. None of them were bloody. They were loved and healthy and happy, and Dean reveled in it.

* * *

He laid down on the floor, blind but seeing things the world could never hope to recreate. His mind was too beautiful, too perfect. His dreams were too real, and too agonizing.

Dean didn't move as the memories of a life that could have been, but never would be, washed over him.

Thoughts of Castiel lay forgotten under the waves of regret. The waves of envy.

Dean wanted to run onto the playground. He wanted to understand how to laugh and run and play like the other kids. He wanted to go to school and not feel outcast. He wanted to bring home As and not have his father tell them they were meaningless.

Dean wanted a normal life.

Dean stopped getting back up.

Reyka grimaced.

* * *

Thank you all for returning to read this after the ridiculous delay! And thank you all new readers for picking this story up even though the author notes at the top are a roller coaster of chaos to deal with. I appreciate each and every comment I get, from the smallest to the largest, from the most heartwarming to the angriest. I love hearing you all tell me what you think of the characters, or cluing me in to your ideas for new scenes, or theories on what will happen next. Please don't ever stop. 3

Thank you: _KansasAngel94, Casismyfavorite, TV Centric Universe, Gemini Peverell, stefanswifey01, Alyson1.0, Snape Heiress, end butterfly, Jilly-beanz90, halle mcready, qarius, YOU, joestre8, agrove, rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT, mescaline, Emmaz1098, Fang, black cat, Iruchan, Siahposh, Fool for Dean, Slashfilled-mind, Canonbury, Raven Kayleon, Jo Singer, XxStacefacexX, . , TheFennecFox, Ero-Chibi-Chan, summertimeinla, Ceruleaneyes137, toolazytologin, Guest, TTCyclone, MiracleWhipped, Asita Shan, refugeofthemind, WhatTheFangirl, Aliniah, pinkskyline, SaintsGhost, Neko of death, diAbolicAl'feAtherheAd, kathka, K.S.T.M, Ashfire28, remanth, . .Yet, Doryan, Zetsume, JenniCDS, loyalsarahpanda, toastycakes, Stranger 1993, IdrilPuck, & CrystalCay______  
_


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